The Missing
by small-but-strong
Summary: A mysterious curse haunts a Malaysian village deep within the rainforest. When International Rescue are called to assist in the recovery and clear up of a bomb blast in the village, they find that they are not immune to this curse.
1. A Night at the Opera

_Usual disclaimers apply. Don't not own, only borrowing and perhaps tormenting a little! Warnings for descriptions of violence and some strong language in this story._

As the first tear slid down Penelope's cheek, Virgil reached over and took her dainty hand between his tanned, rough one. The scene before their eyes was a tragedy, a young woman wailing for her lost love, pleading for someone, anyone to bring him back...

And as the strings began their crescendo to a minor finale, Virgil felt his own heart lurch a little. Penelope squeezed his hand momentarily as the female soprano hit a note so high it could have shattered glass. Her voice was clear as a bell and Virgil heard himself gasp above Penny's murmured approval.

Virgil often found that a night at the Paris Opera did wonders for his state of mind after a number of tough rescues.

His wrist communicator vibrated against his skin and he sighed, letting his head drop. Penelope felt the movement and turned to face her companion.

"You're needed?" she asked softly. He nodded, acknowledging the signal from base with a one of his own. He got to his feet, smiling apologetically at those behind him in the box and gracing the top of Penelope's head with a chaste kiss, made his way towards the front of the opera house, through ornate corridors lit by extravagant glass chandeliers. Virgil removed a tiny earpiece from his suit jacket pocket, placing it into his ear, already hearing the drone of Thunderbird One's engine's above him as Scott made his approach.

The earpieces had been another of Brains' inventions following a rescue which had Gordon yelling for help as his wrist communicator was trapped under a mountain of fallen debris. The earpiece kept each of them in constant contact with their island base, Thunderbird 5 satellite and the others on the mission.

"Scott, Father, John," Virgil greeted the men he knew to be listening on the other end of the line as he trotted down the grand steps which adorned the entrance to the Opera House. He glanced over his shoulder, giving the building, one of his favourites, a last lingering look.

"Virgil, receiving you loud and clear," John reported back from Thunderbird 5. "How was the opera?"

"Lovely..." Virgil sighed. "Would have been nice to have stayed for the champagne reception..."

"I need you to get to the Jardin des Tuilieries," Scott interrupted, always keen to get straight to business. Virgil managed a smile as he began walking through the quaint streets that he'd always admired, past quant café's filled with people drinking café au lait.

"I'm sending you the GPS to you now Virgil," John added. Virgil lifted his wrist communicator as a detailed map of the area appeared on the screen. A route directly along the Rue de Rivoli took him directly to his pick up point with Scott.

"_Merci_ John," he smiled, quickening his pace and saving his admiration of the Parisian views for another time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Luckily, most Parisians were inside, huddled away from the cool November air and the appearance, albeit very brief, of Thunderbird One, was only witnessed by a few romantic couples. Virgil was glad to get into the warmer temperatures of Thunderbird One, securing the door. Scott glanced over his shoulder and smiled a greeting at his younger brother.

"Look at you," Scott commented as Virgil settled himself into the passenger seat. "Very dapper...makes me think you were out to impress this evening..." The force of Scott pushing his Thunderbird towards the rescue zone, pushed Virgil back into his seat.

"It's the opera Scott, there is a dress code," Virgil sighed, waiting for the number of teasing comments he'd receive at having accompanied Penelope for a cultured evening...for the third time in as many months.

"Gordon's got your uniform in Two so you can have a quick change before we arrive. Wouldn't want to get your best dinner suit all dirty..."

"Yeah, yeah." Scott glanced again at his brother, who had loosened his bow tie and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt. He didn't look entirely pleased to have been called away at such short notice. Scott sighed silently, he understood his brother's annoyance. There had been a large number of rescues recently, many of them man-made disasters. Terrorist attacks in remote villages across South East Asia. Scott and Virgil had been given a few days of down time, Virgil immediately accepting Penelope's offer of a night in Paris. Scott didn't blame him. He'd planned a day of hitting the gym, checking over Thunderbird One and swimming before the call had come in, a mere eleven hours after the last one.

"What are we looking at then?" Virgil asked him. Immediately the earlier joking was pushed aside and both were quick to assess the situation, ever the face of professionalism.

"It's a big one Virg, a bomb in an Indonesian village. Pretty isolated and the local towns and villages have the man power, but not the equipment to clear up the mess and rescue those who have been trapped in pretty poorly built structures."

"Another bomb. In South East Asia," Virgil sighed, rubbing his hand across his eyes wearily.

"Penelope's going to have her work cut out for her finding anything out about the group behind it though. John says there's nothing on any networks. He was wondering if perhaps they've been monitored by MI6 or the CIA, but…" Scott trailed off with a shrug. With the recurrence of the attacks, Jeff had shared all information the boys gathered during on rescues with Penelope, in the hope that she could focus the attention of senior MI6 personnel on working towards finding the leaders behind this group.

"Well, whatever we hear about or see here, we can pass on to her. Alan will be able to pull the audio feeds from the earpieces, right?"

"Yeah. Let's hope it helps."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The trees surrounding the tiny clearing began to stir as early evening approached. A tall man, broad, solid and muscular placed down the fish he'd caught that afternoon. Manap was a man of thirty, his wife and child taken from him during a vicious battle between the government and the villagers. Their attempts to save their forest, their homes and their traditions had failed. Manap had been punished in the more horrific way, his life stripped from him as he heard the wails from his family.

He'd watched the other men of the village share his own grief as their closest relatives were cruelly taken from them.

When the stranger had arrived the next morning, he found men more than willing to extract revenge on a government that had taken everything. His eyes had gleamed with near excitement as he told them of his plans to seek revenge on those that had hurt them so much. Manap listened closely, sharing the drink the stranger made them. It had a spicy taste on his tongue and left a warm path as it trickled down his throat. The flames from the fire flickered across the man's face as he spoke softly, his words mesmerising the group of men before him.

When he'd woken, Manap was no longer the man from before. The stranger smiled as he wordlessly followed his companions deeper into the forest, further from government control and any watchful eyes.

This stranger, he was now their leader. He'd made them a band of rebels, fighting back against the authority which had treated them so brutally.

His plan was swiftly falling into place. His own revenge was not on the Indonesian or Malaysian governments, but on an organisation determined to stop him and who had prevented almost every attack, every opportunity of gaining their technology.

Not this time.

This time he was well prepared.


	2. Scenes from a Rescue

_Usual disclaimers apply. Warnings for descriptions of violence and some strong language in this story. Thanks for the reviews. I hope you enjoy this next __instalment_

The damp, sticky heat was overwhelming and hit them as soon as the brothers joined Scott in what appeared to be the main town square. Being from tropical climes themselves, the temperatures were not far from what they enjoyed, or endured, but on the island they were blessed with a cool, coastal breeze, keeping the air feeling fresher.

Gordon took a long slug from his water bottle, wiping the excess that trickled down his chin and surveyed the grim scene before him. The village was a mismatched mess of tin roofs, battered bricks and wooden planks that formed homes and buildings. Very few were still standing. Gordon glanced towards a small café by the looks of things with ratty chairs and stained coffee mugs littering the tables. It had a crudely painted sign across the roof, 'Kiri's'. It housed some of the refugees from the blasts, blood-stained kitchen cloths cluttering the dusty floor as a man poured a clear liquid from a bottle into small shot glasses. At the other side of the street, a building which resembled a hall was still standing, although the walls were scarred with cracks.

All in all, the village was a mess.

Virgil adjusted his sash as he exited Thunderbird 2, taking a moment to look at how out of place their machinery looked in the tiny town they'd landed. He looked on as a woman cried to Scott, something about a trapped child, his limited Mandarin told him. It was a sad echo of the scenes he'd watched portrayed on the stage earlier that evening.

John was surrounded by children, seemingly oblivious to the ongoing danger, the crumbling buildings. Fingers reached out to touch his sash, excitable voices asking questions, pointing to the ships. Suddenly, a tall man moved towards him, dressed in worn pale trousers and a stretched green vest which revealed a toned, muscular chest. His face revealed his real age, lined and worn like old leather. He spoke quietly, but with authority, immediately scattering the children and turning his attention to John.

"You answered our call for help," he commented. John nodded.

"It's our job Sir."

"If only you could solve the problem that started this." The man turned around to look at what remained of the village. John was distracted by the voices of his brother and father in his earpiece, rapid conversation going between Scott and Jeff with Virgil's soft voice interrupting whenever he could. John was shaken up by the size of the rescue job they were expected to carry out. It had been about three or four months since John had been on his last rescue, it was the first terrorist attack he'd experienced the aftermath of.

"I'm not sure I understand..." he murmured, adjusting the earpiece with a frown as Virgil spoke of their newest piece of equipment he'd brought and asked for Brains to join the conversation.

"Someone caused this bombing..." The man placed a hand on John's shoulder, drawing his attention back to him.

"He is a demon...he stole my brother..." The man's eyes darkened, showing anger as his fingers pinched John's skin. John felt his mouth get dry, a feeling of uncertainty settling in the pit of his stomach. The moment was broken by a voice in his earpiece; Scott snapping an order at him.

"John I need you over here." John blinked, shaking the man's hand from his shoulder as he smiled sympathetically at the man.

"We're going to do everything we can to help here. I assure you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Virgil was using equipment that he had described as a JCB for International Rescue. The huge claw easily grabbed large amounts of rubble and could quickly clear an area. He hummed one of the aria's from the opera as he worked, Gordon having previously scanned the area to confirm where people were trapped. Virgil was still hopeful that they might be able to save many, to reunite families and to try and restore some stability to a village that had been literary torn apart by a bomb blast. The idea of this devastation being caused by human hands made him sick to his stomach and he hummed a little louder to keep his mind off that fact. He checked the information Gordon had sent to the onboard computer, giving exact positions of two life signals. Virgil halted the machine and pulled on some heavy duty gloves before making his way out of the ship, joining some of the villagers in removing the next layer of rubble. A tiny hand wormed its way out from beneath splintered wooden planks and the villagers whooped in excitement. While two of the men moved the planks, Virgil reached into the opening, a small boy squinting up at him, giving him a toothy smile. A quick assessment showed that the boy had escaped with only a few bruises and some cuts that required cleaning. Virgil lifted him clear of the rubble, handing him to a very grateful father.

"There should be someone else," Virgil said, although he wasn't entirely sure how much English the villagers spoke, if any.

His own query was answered by the boy, pointing and shouting towards the rubble. Virgil glanced back to see some dust shifting before a dog wriggled out from behind more rubble. Reaching over, Virgil easily picked up the small dog, which was yapping with excitement before placing the bundle of fluff on the ground, watching it leaping about and licking its owners face with delight.

"Thank you!" the boy called to him, his English heavily accented. Virgil nodded and smiled, reaching out to ruffle his hair as he made his way to the next collapsed building. Although he had dreaded another rescue which was the result of a bomb blast and it had taken him away from a very pleasant evening, it wasn't as bad as he had first feared. They'd soon be finished and heading home.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Gordon had assisted the owner of the café, Kiri, with some of the injured, raiding Thunderbird 2's medical supplies when his own began running short. Kiri's English was very good and he acted as translator for Gordon as he asked them about others that could be trapped elsewhere in the village. One woman took hold of Gordon's wrist pulling him towards him. She spoke quickly, her hand squeezing his wrist as if to emphasise her words. She gestured towards the hall that was still standing.

"She says that some are in the school," Kiri said, smiling reassuringly at the woman and handing her a glass of the clear, strong alcohol.

"Ok, my team can help them." He handed Kiri the remaining first aid equipment before Gordon put in a call to Scott, informing him of the location of other injured villagers. He walked across the square, pausing momentarily as Virgil shifted the JCB alongside him.

"Hey Gordon, do you need any help?"

"I think a number of people have taken shelter in the school. I'm going in to see if anyone needs any treatment," Gordon replied, knowing Scott would also pick up the conversation.

"FAB," Scott replied. "Take care though, these buildings might not be entirely secure following the blast." Virgil smiled at Gordon and shrugged.

"Give me a shout if you need me."

Gordon acknowledged Scott's advice and made his way towards the school building, giving John, who was carefully bandaging the head of a small girl, a mock salute. Their first assessment of the disaster had proved to be a worst case scenario. Many of the injured were now receiving treatment and by quickly clearing mounds of debris, they were able to rescue almost all of those who had been trapped. Gordon was beginning to feel a little more positive.

The school was two rooms, a carpet of dried palm leaves providing some sort of flooring. There were some makeshift tables and chairs, although they were scattered haphazardly around the room. Only a small amount of light trickled in through the small windows, an attempt to keep the rooms relatively cool. Gordon let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting before looking around.

"Hello? I'm from International Rescue. Does anyone need help?" he called out, making his way into the second room. He paused as he saw someone move towards him.

Gordon lifted his hands in a gesture of peace as he watched the wide empty eyes staring at him. There were a handful of children and a few of their mothers gathered in the corner of the hall. Gordon swallowed nervously as two men lifted rifles, pointing them in his direction. Suddenly, his upbeat feeling turned to dread, a fist of ice cold fear forming in his gut. He swallowed thickly as his eyes flickered between the two men.

"Who are you?" one demanded, shoving the rifle towards him.

"I'm from International Rescue. I'm looking for anyone who might need help..." The man pointed towards the group of people in the corner.

"They don't need your help."

"But..." Gordon tried to protest, but stopped as he was shoved back.

"You leave." Gordon squared his shoulders, meeting the eye of the man fearlessly. The man smiled, the glint of a gold tooth catching his eye as he gestured towards the group of people in the corner. For the first time, Gordon could clearly see that their eyes were staring blindly at the opposite wall, none of the group had moved since Gordon arrived. His eyes travelled to their bodies and he let out a shocked moan, much to the delight of the two armed men.

Across the chest of each hostage, were eight packages, filled with explosives and ready to explode.


	3. Complications

_Usual disclaimers apply. Warnings for descriptions of violence and strong language in this story._

The tall man from the village had returned, directing Scott to the nature of each of the buildings in what made up a village square. Scott was ticking off the remains that had been thoroughly searched so that Virgil could begin his clean up job. He could also keep track of any injuries that might require transportation to a city hospital.

"Have there been any other terrorist threats like this?" Scott asked him. The man grimaced and looked around the village.

"There has always been bad feeling, ever since the Indonesian Government tried to claim this land as theirs. After they attacked our village…many of us were left with nothing. So for someone to now take away what little we had left…it is pure evil."

"I'm sorry to hear the troubles you have faced," Scott told the man.

"After the attacks, a stranger visited us. He spoke to the men…I believe he brainwashed them. I saw men I'd known all my life become violent, turn against others in the village. This demon...he takes control of your mind," the man said, repeating words he'd spoken to John earlier. Scott was aware of local tribal beliefs in spirits, he'd come across it during his time training in the depths of the Amazon. However, these were usually based around the trees or the animals found in the forest, not an actual person.

"He is a terrorist?" Scott asked him. "He's done this before?"

"He will continue to strike until he has what he wants," the man replied. "He wants to take down powerful organisations."

"So he targets small villages in the Indonesian jungle?" Scott glanced at the man, a frown crossing his face.

"You need to stop him. He has men trapped in the jungle. My brother is one of them. And he will take more today while we are all so distracted by this," he waved his hand in the direction of the crumbled buildings.

"Where did you last see your brother?" Scott asked him, but he didn't hear the answer as through his earpiece, Gordon had suddenly spoken a word that filled him with dread.

"There's a bomb," Gordon's voice was very soft, but each brother stopped as he heard the dreaded word, leaving their assigned posts and gathering as many locals as possible to find some sort of shelter.

"Gordon, get the hell out of there..." Scott's voice was firm. Gordon glanced helplessly at the exit as the second of the two guards pressed the detonator. Survival reflexes kicked in and as the ceiling around him began to collapse, Gordon threw himself towards the nearest exit, arms over his head, diving out of the exit, head over heels into the dirt outside. He pushed himself to his feet, well aware that he wasn't yet out of danger yet and stumbled from the crumbling building, Scott's voice ringing in his ears. He felt the ground shuddering around him as he dragged himself as far as he could before he flopped to the muddy ground, the sound of the explosion echoing in his head.

XXXXXXXXXX

Hearing the muffled blast, the bare chested man sat back, smiling almost serenely. His eyes opened, gazing on the band of men and boys he had enslaved through his whispered offers. He caught the eye of the most senior man of his group, Manap, a man who had lost everything and who had been offered everything on joining the rebels.

"It is time," he spoke quietly.

XXXXXXXXXX

The vibrations from the blast were felt all along the dirt track that passed for the main road, windows shattering as the wave passed over them. Virgil took shelter behind the pod, helplessly watching the people of the town frantically yelling to each other, grabbing hold of their possessions, not knowing where was safe to run to.

"This is a mess," one Red Cross worker commented to Virgil.

"You're telling me," Virgil returned, his eyes scanning the mass of people until he caught sight of Gordon. The red-head's face was a mask of shock, his hands against his ears, his body shaking.

"Oh God..." Virgil moaned, running towards his brother, pushing through the crowd until he reached him. He grabbed Gordon's wrist, pulling at him as Gordon looked around in wonder.

"Gordon? Are you okay?" Virgil asked him, trying to assess the superficial wounds he had sustained in his escape from the bomb.

"What?" Gordon asked him.

"Are you okay? I think you might be in shock...c'mon back to Two with me..." Virgil trailed off, noticing that Gordon was still gazing off into the distance and hadn't seemed to register Virgil speaking to him. Virgil pulled his younger brother round to look at him.

"Can you hear me?" he asked him. Gordon's face showed clear confusion before he paled suddenly. Virgil closed his eyes momentarily, before signing the same question. Gordon's face fell, his eyes flickering nervously as he shook his head slowly.

XXXXXXXXXX

John felt the shards of glass slicing into his cheek as his body was thrown backward, thudding down into the mud around him, surrounded by broken bodies, sightless eyes staring at him. The air was pushed from his lungs and he was stunned into a sudden silence for a moment. He looked to his side and saw men, women, children... eyes wide, mouth agape as the shock of the blast set in, screaming for loved ones, screaming for help. But to John it was silent. He closed his eyes, feeling for his earpiece as slowly his breath began to return, a sudden onslaught of screaming and yelling assaulted his ears and his eyes shot open in time to see Virgil standing above him. He tried to yell out, but his lungs seemed unable to draw enough breath. From somewhere around him, he could hear Scott's voice yelling to each of them, begging for an update. He shook his head, pushing himself into a sitting position. His vision wavered for a moment and he rubbed his fingers across his forehead. He rubbed at his stinging cheek, his fingers coming away with scarlet blood and he swore under his breath.

"Gordon?" his mind slowly processed that both Gordon and Virgil were next to him, Gordon staring at his cheek as Virgil assessed the damage.

"Are you ok?" he asked him and John nodded after a moment.

"Just a bit shaken," he half-smiled. "That wasn't expected huh?" Virgil began cleaning his cheek wound gently, a barely disguised hiss escaping John's lips as he extracted a sliver of glass.

"Sorry," Virgil apologised. John looked to Gordon, wide eyed and pale and smiled reassuringly.

"You ok Gordon?" he asked.

"He can't hear you," Virgil said softly as Gordon yelled the same statement to him. John glanced at Virgil, concern flaring in usually tranquil eyes.

"The blast has affected his hearing...all being well it will come back shortly..." Virgil said, half distracted by attaching a clean dressing to John's wound.

"Where's Scott?" Gordon asked. The three brothers shared a concerned look before Virgil reset his earpiece, scanning all frequencies to find Scott. He assumed the blast might have affected their equipment in some way.

"Virgil calling Scott," he said conversationally as he checked he'd removed all glass from John's wound. There was an ominous silence, most unlike their leader.

"Scott, this is Virgil, do you read me?" Again nothing. Virgil cleared his throat before getting to his feet, about to request Alan's assistance in tracking down Scott. Alan's chirpy voice reached his, assuming what Virgil would require of him.

"Hi Virgil, Scott's earpiece GPS is currently showing him to be at a location around half a kilometre north of your position. I've sent a visual of the area to your wrist communicator. It looks like perhaps he left to check on others?"

"Thanks Alan," Virgil replied, an apprehensive feeling clouding his thoughts as he saw John's eyes taking in his troubled frown. They both knew that Scott would have reported any change to his location immediately. John smiled optimistically at his brother before pushing himself to his feet.

"I'll take Gordon, you find Scott," John advised as Virgil began running towards Scott's last reported location. He watched Virgil disappear into the surrounding vegetation before taking Gordon's arm and they made their way back to Thunderbird Two, to advise their father of the complications of the rescue and to wait for Scott's return. John would be glad when they could leave, the recent developments in the village had left him shaken and for the first time, feeling that International Rescue were at risk.

XXXXXXXXXXX

John smiled reassuringly at Gordon who sat picking at the dried mud on his uniform. It had been an hour since Virgil had headed into the jungle to find Scott and neither had been heard from since. John had tried contacting them, but had received silence.

"John?" Gordon's voice was unnecessarily loud and John flinched before turning to him.

"They will be ok," he said quickly. Gordon started at him, shaking his head a little. John cursed himself for not remembering his brother's current injuries and signed the reassurance to him.

"Thankfully we know how to sign huh?" he sighed. John half-smiled before turning back to Thunderbird Two's control panel. He pressed the button that would connect him to Alan in Thunderbird 5 and his father back at base.

It was time to break the news.

XXXXXXXXXX

Tracy Island was a tranquil island paradise, a welcome relief to those who worked in some of the most horrific and difficult places around the world. A soft breeze teased the fragrant purple flowers that Kyrano had trimmed and cared for the previous evening as he'd watched Thunderbirds One and Two take off and make their way to the rescue zone. Kyrano had not heard the details of the rescue; he'd become almost used to the brothers success in rescues.

It was the early the next morning when Kyrano awoke suddenly, the sounds of angry yells in a language he vaguely remembered from his youth filling his head. He sat up, holding his hands out in front of him as they trembled uncontrollably. Looking around the room, he tried to recall what had shaken him from his deep sleep. Everything seemed calm. The soft curtains fluttered in the cool morning breeze, the scent from his flowers permeating the room. Kyrano sighed softly and prepared to return to sleep when he felt his breath shoved from him. He pushed himself to his feet desperately.

Only to have a stabbing pain through his head forcing him to his knees, clenching his eyes shut.

"Kyrano!" a voice boomed and Kyrano moaned as the pain jarring him intensified. The voice faded, replaced with a vivid image floating behind Kyrano's eyelids.

A haunting vision of the eldest Tracy brother's, huddled together in torrential rain, surrounded by thick, impenetrable rainforest.

Kyrano let out a shocked yell before he glimpsed fleeting images of Virgil's broken body, blood covering Scott's face.

As sudden as it had struck him, the crippling agony ceased and Kyrano collapsed to the ground, his visions fading to black as the pained yell of Scott Tracy echoed through his mind.

XXXXXXXXXXX

The patriarch of the Tracy family and head of International Rescue did not sleep while a rescue was in progress. Unless he was particularly ill or, in this case, had been tempted from his desk by freshly baked muffins. Grandma Ruth Tracy didn't like to sleep while her grandson's were working either.

It was the frantic call alert from John that stopped Jeff in his tracks, a muffin half way to his mouth as he opened the communication. John spared no time in informing him of what had happened at the rescue; the second, unexpected bomb and, perhaps more worryingly, the apparent disappearance of Scott and Virgil. Jeff eased himself into the chair behind his desk, his forehead creasing anxiously, his lips pressed together.

"So they are both missing?" Jeff Tracy placed his head in his hands, rubbing away the tension lines on his forehead with his fingers.

"They could have been injured, or perhaps caught up with other villages who were injured..."

"John, something awful might have happened to them," Gordon's loud voice came from the back of Thunderbird 2's cockpit, looking empty without Virgil sitting there. Jeff looked to Brains momentarily, his expression echoed the concern across Jeff's. It was no secret that this had been a terrorist attack and Jeff was not willing to lose any more of his operatives or their equipment to them.

"Ok, John, Gordon, you need to bring One and Two back to base," he said after a moment.

"No!" John cried out, much to his surprise. Usually mild mannered, John was quick to follow orders, but being asked to leave two of his brothers to whatever fate faced them in the rainforest was not going down easily.

"We can't just leave them," John spoke firmly, his emotions being held at bay. Only just.

"John, there is a significant risk to our equipment and to you and Gordon. I'm not willing to lose anything else today. This will be resolved, but I want to minimise the risk."

"Dad, Gordon can't hear anything..." John interrupted, his face falling suddenly, revealing for the first time the strain he felt at being the one left in charge.

Jeff paled, so focused on the disappearance of two of the brothers, he'd neglected the injuries Gordon and John had obviously suffered.

"Dad, can Tin Tin and Brains help?" Alan's voice came a surprise to John and his father.

"Uh…" John looked blankly at his father who nodded quickly.

"Of course son," Jeff said kindly. "Good idea. Very quick thinking." John smiled, clearly tired, but relieved that one of the problems that had arisen could be solved, relatively easily.

"Sit tight son, look after Gordon. Tin Tin and Brains will be with you soon."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Alan had been awake during the duration of the rescue and had been munching on his frosted cereal when he heard the muffled voices from Scott's communicator. He leaned forward, about to respond when there was a shout.

"Scott! No!" It had sounded like Virgil...only more panicked. Alan felt his spine tense; Virgil never panicked. Unless something awful had happened to Scott...

Alan placed his bowl down, adjusting the controls to increase the volume from the wrist communicator.

"Walk!" The shout was amplified in the confined space of Thunderbird Five's control centre and Alan felt his whole body jerk in shock. His breathing rapidly increasing as he heard voices talking. He didn't understand the language, the words shot between the men like rapid gunfire. Suddenly the noises changed, becoming softer, sounds of a struggle and Scott's voice clearly being heard yelling at them to leave Virgil.

Alan felt his hands beginning to tremble as his mind put together a horrific picture to accompany the sounds he was hearing.

The image became a nightmare when he heard the next part.

Machine gunfire.

A yell.

Then nothing.


	4. Searching

_Usual disclaimers apply. Warnings for descriptions of violence and some strong language in this story. Thanks to all who are reading and reviewing._

_Week 1..._

"Mr. Tracy!" Kyrano barrelled into the lounge, but could see from the tense lines etched across Jeff Tracy's forehead, he was well aware of the news Kyrano had been about to deliver.

"Have you traced the wrist communicators?"

"There's no signal Dad," Alan replied sombrely. "They must have been destroyed; nothing else would stop them from giving a signal." The lighting in Thunderbird 5 was not always flattering, but even with this in mind, Alan was frightfully pale, his blue eyes wide and almost frantic. To the young man's credit, he maintained a steady voice and remained entirely professional as he played his father the last communication from Scott's wrist communicator.

"Play the recording again Alan," Jeff instructed. The muffled shouts and conversation picked up by Jeff, his face hardening as he heard the obvious maltreatment of his sons. Kyrano paled as he heard the same words from his vision playing out in the serene environment of the Tracy lounge. Jeff immediately brought up a translating application on his virtual screen, embedded into the desk.

"Do we have a last location for this transmission Alan?" he asked him, glancing towards Alan's portrait

"Yes Sir...I'm sending the co-ordinates to you now." Jeff pulled up a communication link with Thunderbird Two and sent the details of the last known location to John and Gordon.

"John, I've sent you the last confirmed location of Scott's wrist communicator. Under no circumstances do you go there alone. Is there anyone in the village that could accompany you? Someone who knows these forests?" He watched John frown for a moment before Gordon frantically signed a message to him.

"Yes...there was a man in the village. He talked about losing his brother in the forest. There may be others like him who could help us search."

"Did he find his brother?" Alan asked. Jeff watched John's face fall before he caught himself, almost cursed himself for losing the optimistic outlook he'd been honing for the past few hours.

"We will find them," John assured them. "We will keep in constant contact with you during the search." Jeff nodded briskly, managing an optimistic smile.

"Good luck."

XXXXXXXXXXX

The tall man from the village had gathered a small number of other men who were keen to help John and Gordon, they had shared the same uncertainty and terror of loosing family members. They eyed John and Gordon with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. They were not used to outsiders as the tall man had explained, every stranger was a threat. John stepped forward, extending his hand towards the tall man.

"I'm John," he introduced himself. "This is my colleague Gordon."

"I am Guntur," the tall man smiled, accepting the formal handshake, then touching his hand to his chest. The gesture was repeated by the other men surrounding them.

"We are all pleased to meet you," Guntur said with a warm smile. Gordon and John both smiled in return, slightly forced as they followed Guntur into the trees. They walked in silence for a while, the only sounds being the various bird and insect calls echoing around the green canopy above them. Guntur spoke softly, telling the brothers about the village and the tragedy that had affected them.

"My brother was called Manap. He was a good man. He lost his wife and son."

"Awful..." John murmured. "Was it an accident..."

"The Indonesian Government tried to claim our lands. We fought back. They tortured, killed...many of the men lost everything as a punishment." John stopped walking, swallowing almost nervously. He felt the burn of bile in his throat.

"Surely that's not allowed by laws..."

"Here, no one cares," Guntur replied simply. "No one sees the injustice. The demon...he knew that and he targeted the men carefully."

"Demon? You spoke of that earlier..." John trailed off, waiting for Guntur to continue his story.

"He was a man...they say his eyes would gleam as he offered you anything you wanted...he offered Manap and many other men revenge for the deaths of their families. They were enticed by his witching words and his potions..." Guntur pushed back an overgrown liana with his large hand, gesturing for John and Gordon to proceed before him.

"Was he some sort of Witch Doctor?" John asked. Guntur let out a grunted laugh and shook his head quickly, letting the liana swing back into position.

"He did not heal. He takes their souls..." He stopped as Gordon made a strangled noise. John turned and saw his jovial brother looking almost sick as he stared at something very out of place amongst the greenery.

Blue and yellow cloth entwined around a thick tree branch.

John reached over, pulling them from the tree, but as he did, he felt his stomach lurch and was unable to stop the shaky yell from escaping. He turned to watched Gordon's face visibly pale, colour draining from it as he reached out to finger the scorched bullet holes in Virgil's yellow sash. John's breathing increased as he saw the smashed remains of two wrist communicators and earpieces, surrounding by scurrying red bullet ants. Gordon swallowed rapidly, trying to calm the sudden churning of his stomach and the desire to bring up his limited International Rescue food supplies. Horrified, he watched John wipe a stray tear from below his eye, turning to Guntur and speaking to him. Gordon couldn't lip read, but he imagined he was confirming that the blood stained, bullet riddled sashes belonged to Scott and Virgil. Gordon reached out, touching John's arm gently.

"It doesn't mean they aren't still alive," Gordon said softly, as if to himself. John nodded shakily, pocketing the pieces of their equipment.

XXXXXXXXX

Each Wednesday morning, Penelope would work on her self defence skills; punchbag, a form of karate combined with tai-kwan do that Kyrano had taught her and then some yoga to finish. She was in the middle of this when she received the call from Jeff.

"Good morning Jeff," she said pleasantly. "How are you?"

"Not good Penny. You know the boys were on a rescue last night?"

"Ah yes, Virgil missed a magnificent finale..."

"I'm sorry to be blunt Penny, but we're facing a serious situation. Scott and Virgil are missing. Scott disappeared from Mobile Control at 11.25am. Virgil set out to find him and the last contact we had with him was at 11.45am." Penelope abruptly stopped patting the back of her neck with a soft towel, taking a moment to compose herself. She gingerly touched the side of her head, where Virgil had placed his lips before leaving the Opera house. She cleared her throat before continuing.

"And Gordon and John?"

"They are still at the rescue site, currently making their way to Scott and Virgil's last location...with the help of some of the villagers. They reported that one of the village elders spoke of what John thought was a terrorist rebel group. We don't know the location or condition of Scott and Virgil...if this is the work of a terrorist network, perhaps this is your expertise? I need you to gain access to any information about this group." Jeff paused before his voice broke, trying to maintain a professional dialogue with his colleague, trying to keep this as far from the personal family loss that he was dealing with.

"Of course Jeff, but what about support from the US? Surely if they were aware that two hostages had been taken, they could provide some assistance?" Penelope did the same, slipping seamlessly into agent mode and quickly going through the motions.

"We run the risk of exposing our identity if I ask for US Government support...at the moment, no one outwith International Rescue and this terrorist group know that Scott and Virgil are missing. I can't risk others finding this out, Penny. I can't risk all of us."

"I understand Jeff," Penelope replied, maintaining her demure composure until Jeff ceased the transmission. Parker placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Penelope dropped the towel to the floor, pulling her hair out of the messy pony tail.

"Why don't you take a shower m'lady and I will serve some…" Penelope shook her head, smiling at her butler and friend.

"Parker, I need the Rolls Royce...and can you get Sir Jeremy on the line please?"

XXXXXXXXXXX

The remaining members of the Tracy Island household gathered at their island base. John piloted Thunderbird One, Tin Tin flew Brains to the rescue site in the light, high speed aircraft in order for him to assist Gordon in the flight home in Thunderbird Two. Jeff had taken Thunderbird Three to bring Alan home, breaking the protocol he usually insisted on, and making the flight alone. They assembled in the lounge, a group of tired and worried faces greeting Jeff as he and Alan took their places.

"I've informed all International Rescue associates of the situation. Currently, it looks as though Scott and Virgil have been abducted. Their condition is unknown. There have been no demands for any sort of ransom and there has been no contact from any terrorist group claiming responsibility for the abduction. I have made the decision to cease all International Rescue activity until we have a clearer idea of what has happened to Scott and Virgil."

As if on cue, the portraits on the wall flickered from rescue mode, into a collection of casual photographs; Scott in his military finest, Virgil with his beloved white grand piano, Gordon with his gold medal, John receiving the prestigious 'Sir Arthur Clarke' award for his research which helped pioneer the first manned Mars missions and Alan clutching an oversized trophy, won during a 24 hour race at Le Mans. Jeff let his gaze linger on the photographs for a moment before John spoke up.

"Shouldn't we look for them?" It was the question Gordon and Alan had desperately wanted to ask, but didn't dare.

"I have Penelope working on that. She's meeting with Sir Jeremy, who has some MI6 agents working in the region. They are going to be our men on the ground for this. I can't risk you boys going there…if they have Scott and Virgil, I'm sure they would be only too happy to add more International Rescue members to their collection."

John hesitated, but knew his father's words made sense. He wouldn't want to risk anyone else from the organisation either, but it didn't help shift the sickening feeling that he had abandoned his brothers in the forest.

"John, I know you can use your technological skills to perhaps find satellite imagery of the area. If there is some terrorist group in the area, they must have a camp close by…"

"I'll find them Sir," John said, his soft blue eyes blurring momentarily as he fought against the emotions.

"I'm not sure what else I can stay that will make this any better," Jeff told his team, "but I have no doubt that we will find Scott and Virgil and serve justice on those responsible for their abduction."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After the meeting in the lounge, Brains took Gordon to the infirmary to check his ear drums had not suffered any long term damage. Tin Tin took Alan's arm and whispered soft reassurances as they made their way from from the lounge. Jeff took a bottle of malt whisky from the drinks cabinet.

"You need this as much as I do," he said, pouring two generous amounts. John moved to the desk, taking his glass in a trembling hand. He took a sip, flinching at the sharp burning taste.

"Scott and Virgil were always much better drinkers than me," he half smiled.

"Well, when they get back, they can teach you to appreciate a fine Scottish whisky. Penelope knows her malts," Jeff said. "I hope she is able to find some information about this terrorist group."

"Did Alan send the audio from the rescue?"

"Yes. I suggest we analyse it further just in case," Jeff said. "Some of it makes for uncomfortable listening for the second time."

"The bomb?" John guessed. Jeff nodded slowly, draining the last of his whiskey and placing the glass down. John followed, with a barely disguised wince. Jeff couldn't help the small smile that crossed his lips.

"Get some rest John," he told his son. "I'll let you know when we hear anything from Penny."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Meanwhile, in the depths of a Malaysian jungle..._

Scott began pacing, methodically counting out the steps he took between each wall. Their prison was nothing more than bamboo sticks, bound together tightly with vines. Virgil was sure they could work their way out of it somehow. That wasn't the threat in this situation.

No, the fierce, scowling guards with some sort of rifle soon dismissed any ideas of an easy escape. Their weaponry was out of place in the midst of dense, tropical forest, among the wooden huts constructed from the surrounding trees.

Scott began pacing again and Virgil glanced up at him wearily.

"Scott?"

"Fifteen steps, Virgil."

"Scott?"

"It's smaller than I expected..." he looked at his brother, his tense features softening at the glimpse of concern in the other's eyes. He sat down in the red soil, next to Virgil, bumping his shoulder against Virgil's in a gesture of support.

He'd been through similar before. Although it had been in the scorched desert plains of Somalia that he'd suffered the hardship of a hostage situation. His companions had been young, new Air Force cadets, their wide eyes looking to Scott, their commanding officer, for support, for help and for assurances that this was not the end of their time.

Virgil's eyes held similar questions.

"So...this wasn't quite what was supposed to happen," he said after a while. Virgil snorted, drawing lazy circles in the dusty floor.

"I thought we were supposed to be a neutral force...like the Red Cross you said," Virgil sighed. "They obviously think we have alliances with someone..."

Scott echoed Virgil's sigh, looking out at the two guards currently sitting around five metres from their prison. One met Scott's eyes unflinchingly, smiling a crooked, toothy smile and stroking his hand along the barrel of the rifle.

"We're useless to them," Virgil said finally.

Scott's unspoken worry was not that they were useless to this group of rebels, but that they were useful to someone else. They had been targeted specifically. John and Gordon still wandered the small settlements along the river...whoever had them here had deliberately targeted himself and Virgil. That worried him more than anything in that moment.

"They'll kill us Scott, won't they?" Virgil asked. His voice was steady, as though merely asking about the weather, or what they might have for dinner. Scott turned to Virgil and shook his head firmly.

"We don't know that," he said sternly. "You give up now, you might as well be dead." Virgil glanced at him, before nodding.

"You're right. Sorry." Scott sighed, shaking his head.

"I didn't mean it like that…sorry. Look, there's no way that Dad is going to sit back while we are here. Penny will already be using her contacts to establish who this lot are." He gestured to the men hovering around the camp.

"We'll be out of here before we even know it," Virgil said, glancing at Scott. Scott returned the smile.

"Let's hope, right?"


	5. Help

_Usual disclaimers apply. Warnings for descriptions of violence and strong language. Thanks again to all who are reading and reviewing._

The offices of MI6 had always cut a striking form across the London skyline. Penelope was a familiar face to the security personal and they made the usual small talk with her – the weather's been lovely here in London, most unexpected- as she endured the usual body search and the x-ray of her handbag. She was escorted to the fifth floor, where a former colleague was awaiting her arrival.

Sir Jeremy was nearing retirement and although he served time in a number of countries across the globe, he was happy to finish his career based in his grand office in London. He had been a friend of her fathers; he had been there when they had lost him, the result of a failed mission deep in Russia during the Cold War. When Penelope at twenty five had expressed a desire to follow in her father's footsteps, he'd taken her under his wing. Now, he smiled as Penelope sat down across from him. His office reflected his secret achievements under MI6 and he had become one of Penelope's closest confidents during her many years of service. He was also one of a small number of people who knew her links with International Rescue and the Tracy family. She returned his smile softly.

"You look well Penelope," he commented.

"Thank you Sir Jeremy, but I'm afraid I come with some troubling news." Sir Jeremy leaned forward on his desk, although he perhaps expected this conversation.

"I hear there have been some problems in Malaysia?" Sir Jeremy began. "I've had two agents based in Sibu to investigate terrorist links in the area. They told me International Rescue had been involved."

"International Rescue was involved in a salvage operation really, after the terrorist attack. Scott and Virgil are now missing...have been for forty-eight hours now. Currently their location, their captors and their condition are unknown." Penelope shakily cleared her throat, uncomfortably reminded of the nightmare situation they were facing. Sir Jeremy tilted his head thoughtfully.

"There have been no demands?"

"None."

"Jeff must be a nervous wreak...although I'm not sure I can imagine that," Sir Jeremy smiled sadly.

"It is not easy," Penelope agreed, aware of her own personal feelings and how difficult the situation was for her.

"My agents have a great knowledge of the area and they have a number of contacts which might prove useful for acquiring any information that might be able to assist. I assume Jeff wants totally secrecy about who is missing."

"I think that would be for the best."

XXXXX

Scott woke with a start, not sure when he had fallen asleep as he had made a silent promise to be alert to surroundings at all time and keep himself and Virgil from further danger. He groaned as he felt his cheek slide against the rain soaked mud, lifting his head to smear it across his cheek with his sleeve. Beside him, Virgil was sitting against the back wall, watching the goings on in the camp closely. On hearing his groan, Virgil glanced at him and smiled.

"Hey," he said. "You've got something on your face…" Scott pushed him with a scowl, but was glad that Virgil seemed to be able to make some sort of joke despite their precarious situation. Scott was about to say something in return when his attention caught by the guards parting to let a tall, well-built man into the clearing. His combat fatigues were worn, torn at one of the knees. He spoke quickly with the guards Scott and Virgil had become so familiar with. There were nods, salutes, the guards showed respect for this man and Scott unconsciously gripped Virgil's arm a bit tighter.

They were about to meet the man behind their abduction.

Scott pushed himself to his feet, Virgil following him after a moment as the man made his way towards them, stopping in front of their prison. He rubbed his hand across his bald head before pulling his cap back on. His dark eyes fixed on the two brothers before he smiled.

"Good day," he said politely. His words were thickly accented, but they struggled to place it. It could have been from any of the Asian regions surrounding them.

"You must be Scott and Virgil Tracy. I am so pleased to finally have the chance to meet you." Virgil made a small noise from the throat, but Scott stayed firm, squeezing his arm reassuringly.

"Well, you obviously know who we are, but who are you?" Scott asked, his voice little more than a growl. The man before them cleared his throat, eyeing Scott.

"My name is not important. I don't believe you could even pronounce it," he chuckled.

"Try me," Scott interjected quickly, his eyes fixed on the face of their captor. His face changed, mouth set firmly in a scowl as he glowered at Scott.

"You may call me Belah Gaat, but you may already know me as The Hood."

"You..." Virgil trailed off. Suddenly, they were face to face with the mysterious man who harboured a hatred towards their organisation. He'd never succeeded in any of his attempts to harm the family or obtain any of their equipment, but Virgil wondered whether this would be his chance to succeed in both of his goals.

"I see my reputation precedes me." Virgil stood shoulder to shoulder with Scott, their faces fixed with almost identical looks of disgust. Belah watched them for a moment, almost amused by their scorn.

"I am hoping with you both here that we can come to some arrangement with either yourselves or your family about equipment and information."

"Unlikely." The Hood turned to Virgil as he spoke. He'd surprised himself with his outburst.

"You won't get any information from us or our organisation," Scott put in. Smiling momentarily, Scott was sure he saw a glimmer of malice flicker across Belah's eyes. Beside him, Virgil flinched as Belah fixed his gaze on him.

"I enjoy a challenge," Belah said finally before turning on his heel. Virgil stepped back from the bamboo bars, letting himself slip down the mud wall at the back of the cell. Scott continued to watch Belah, one hand gripping a bamboo bar tightly.

"We're stronger than him Virg," Scott assured him. He moved to the back of the cell, joining his brother in watching the camp settling down for the night and wondering what awaited them the next day.

XXXXXX

The torrential rain hammered on ground outside the hut accompanied by the crashing of thunder and sudden flashes of lightning. Scott and Virgil had been separated at dawn that morning, escorted to two huts at either side of the clearing. In Scott's was a battered wooden tub, it was filled with murky water and it didn't take Scott too long to work out what it would be used for. He'd been alone for most of the morning, Belah choosing to take his time preparing for his 'chat' with the brothers. Virgil had been the first to meet with him. Scott could hear Belah's demanding voice and Virgil's defiant replies. From the sounds of Virgil's suppressed moans and groans, he was suffering for his resistance.

Scott was sure his own tortures would begin shortly, eyeing the two men standing in the doorway.

Belah's voice was raised and he was yelling insults towards Virgil, threats about what would happen to him and Scott should he be so insolent. The full force of the threat was lost as thunder rumbled around him, drowning out his words. Scott didn't need to hear them as he saw Virgil being dragged, unceremoniously, across the clearing and thrown back into the prison.

"Virgil!" Scott cried out, scrambling towards the door way, but he was grabbed by the two guards, punched and kicked into submission. A threat was whispered to him in a language he didn't speak, but he understood perfectly as the guard looked towards Virgil. Scott wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing blood across his cheek. He spat out the metallic taste from his mouth and fixed his eyes on the doorway, preparing for his meeting with Belah Gaat.

He didn't have to wait long. Belah entered, methodically cleaning his blood stained hands, giving Scott a triumphant look. Scott swallowed back the rage bubbling inside of him. He was protective of all his brothers. But Virgil and Scott were fiercely loyal to each other. Scott would die for Virgil and he knew Virgil would do the same for him…they'd been put to that test on one too many rescues for his liking.

"So, what would you like to tell me about your organisation?" Belah began.

"Nothing," Scott replied. "I have nothing to say to you." Belah sighed dramatically and nodded to the two guards.

He felt strong hands grip his hair, his face being shoved against the ground, he could taste the peaty mud in his mouth mixing with the blood from his cut lip.

"Still nothing to say?" his captor taunted him. Scott managed a grunt of resistance before he was hauled back to his feet, the two large guards easily shoving him to the tub of water. His lungs craved fresh oxygen and his hand clawed at the space around him until strong hands gripped his wrists, trapping them against his back. Scott felt his head getting lighter, the edge of his eyesight going dark and he felt the fight to cling to consciousness beginning to weaken.

Just as he thought his time was up, he was hauled out of the tub and thrown to the ground, a fist slamming hard against his stomach. He curled up, his lungs screaming in agony as he desperately tried to suck in air. One man grabbed hold of his shoulders, his grip like iron, fingers pressing down painfully into his muscles. Belah came to stand before him.

"This could all stop...for you and Virgil..." he said softly, leaning towards Scott.

"You wouldn't stop...as soon as we tell you anything, you'll kill us..." he managed to gasp out before another stunning blow caught him at the side of his chin, throwing his head to the side.

"You consider yourself so useless to me?" Belah asked him. "Virgil has already given me details about your secret base." Scott's eyes flickered uncertainly. He was sure that Virgil wouldn't have done anything of the sort, but he couldn't help the doubt that crept into his mind.

"Liar," he spat, earning himself another punch.

"Your resistance won't last," Belah hissed as he stepped back. "You will be begging me for your life and your brothers before long." He smiled, almost pleasantly, at Scott, leaving him with the warning.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Ethan and Jack had worked together in Malaysia for the past five years under the leadership of Sir Jeremy. Both had been recruited to MI6 in their final year at Oxford University, Jack studying Asian dialects and Ethan studying Microelectronics. They had been firm friends during their training and had been delighted to be reunited to work together in Malaysia. The two were based in Sibu and rented a small apartment, hidden away in the cluttered streets of the bustling city.

They'd been woken by the phone call from Sir Jeremy, with a request to set up a video conference. Ethan wearily organised his equipment while Jack made a pot of strong, black coffee, his eyes resting on the blurry green numbers on the oven. Four –thirty in the morning.

He brought the two mugs through as Ethan opened the webcam programme, typing in the IP address for Sir Jeremy's office. The screen flickered as Ethan accepted the mug from Jack gratefully.

"This better be good…" he mumbled as Sir Jeremy's face appeared on the screen.

"Gentlemen," Sir Jeremy greeted them. "Can I introduce you to a former MI6 agent, Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward." The two men nodded towards her, she smiled demurely before her eyes flickered almost in shock and she let out a small gasp.

"Penelope? Is everything okay?" Sir Jeremy asked her.

"Yes…sorry. Jack…you look like someone I once knew…" Sir Jeremy let his gaze linger on Penelope for a moment before he turned back to the screen, asking Ethan and Jack for an update on the situation in the village.

"Sir, at the moment, the locals haven't been very forthcoming with information...I would assume many would have been talking about the blast and the fact that they lost so many, but there's nothing. It's almost like it didn't even happen."

"No one is speaking about it?" Sir Jeremy's voice came before his image caught up, a momentary delay caused by their satellite link.

"No one Sir," Jack confirmed, glancing as his partner, Ethan nodded in agreement. Both men had worked as agents for MI6 for a number of years.

"This isn't the first attack of this kind," Ethan added, "but it seems as though it is almost a way of life for them...an everyday occurrence. People just seem to continue on in a daze..."

"Could it be shock?" Sir Jeremy asked.

"Well, I guess so, but would everyone have been affected in almost the same way?" Jack scratched at his stubbly chin, a habit Penelope noticed Virgil had when he was deep in thought, admiring a new subject to paint, or contemplating a symphony at the opera. She found it difficult not to stare at Jack, although the more she watched him, the more she realised he might have Virgil's thick brown hair, deep, understanding brown eyes and his tanned skin, he did not have Virgil's cheeky grin or his brilliant smile. Jack had more freckles across his cheeks and a scar above his left eyebrow. Virgil's face was unblemished by scars, his were only seen when his clothes were scattered across the floor; many scars, obtained during all sorts of rescues, some with horrifying stories behind them…

"…what do you think, Penelope?" Penelope was jerked back to Sir Jeremy's office by the unexpected question, realising that a whole conversation had flowed over her while she thought about Virgil.

"Well…" she trailed off, glancing apologetically at Sir Jeremy. "I'll get back to you. I've just realised I'm late for another appointment…" Sir Jeremy thanked the two agents quickly before terminating the link, stopping Penelope before she left his office.

"I know they mean a lot to you Penelope…" Sir Jeremy said understandingly.

"They are friends and I am worried, yes, but I'll be fine, thank you." She smiled quickly and turned away, her hand tugging at the door handle, pulling it open.

"Jack looks like Virgil, doesn't he?" Sir Jeremy called to her. She paused, her breath catching in her throat before she glanced over her shoulder. The pause gave away everything she realised and sighed inwardly.

"He does a little." Sir Jeremy gave her an understanding smile.

"Tell Jeff that we will do everything we can here to find them. And we will, Penelope."

XXXXXXXXX

Shoved out of the hut, Scott instantly looked towards the cage. Virgil was huddled in the corner, the rain soaking him through, but he didn't seem to be aware of that. Belah grabbed hold of the back of Scott's neck, marching him to the prison and man-handling him inside. He threw them bowls of rotting fruit with a sneer before slamming the gate shut and ensuring it was securely fastened.

Virgil's arms were wrapped around his middle, watching Scott wearily as he prodded the brown mush he assumed had once been a banana.

"Fuck…" he muttered, throwing the bowl into the corner and turning to his younger brother.

"Did you say anything?" Scott asked him softly. Virgil rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"No, of course not."

"What did they do to you?"

"Nothing much..." Virgil managed before he stopped short with a sudden gasp.

"Virg?"

"It's nothing Scott…" Virgil tried to brush away his concerns but Scott took a firm grip of his wrists, easing his hands away and lifted the tatty uniform shirt. Scott couldn't hold back the moan of horror and anger that passed his lips as he saw the severe red and purple bruising across Virgil's body. Virgil tugged his shirt down, pushing Scott back.

"I told you it's nothing," he muttered. Scott shook his head.

"We've gotta get out of here Virg," he whispered. Virgil glanced at Scott, smiling a wry smile.

"Right, how are we going to do that? Firstly we've got loads of armed guards watching our every move. Second, we don't even know where we are. Third, how do we get out of the jungle..."

"We'll work something out!" Scott snapped, cutting off Virgil's pessimistic views. Virgil dropped his head, letting out a soft sigh.

"I'm sorry...I just..." Virgil trailed off before nodding quickly. "I need to get a grip...this isn't how I imagined turning out if ever taken hostage. Dad would be so disappointed." Scott sat down next to his brother and placed a reassuring hand over his.

"You're doing okay Virgil. This is torture...it's meant to be. But we won't break. We are far stronger than that. Just remember that." He pulled him closer in a rough hug, trying to push some of his optimism onto Virgil. He glanced at his younger brother, a shaky smile creeping on to his face and felt his heart sink. He wondered for how long he and Virgil could stand this and how correct Belah's warning statement had been.


	6. Escape

_Usual disclaimers apply. Warnings for descriptions of violence and strong language. Thanks again to all readers and reviewers. _

_Week 2..._

The journey to the tiny village in the forested hills took Jack and Ethan a number of days. The village was as isolated as they had expected; a mud track, barely qualifying as a road was the only access. Signs of the recent attack were still very much visible, buildings scarred by the vibrations from the blast, collapsed houses left as tidy piles around the village square. Ethan found them a tiny room above the village's only café, 'Kiri's', as Jack found himself talking with a group of men who nursed dusty bottles of beer on the bench outside the café.

"The buildings," Jack said pointing to the neat mounds of rubble that clustered around them. "What happened?"

"Poor building," one man said indifferently. "Who ever built them did a bad job. They didn't survive the monsoon season." Jack's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked between the men, nodding in agreement and the crumbled buildings.

"Rain did this?" he asked in disbelief.

"It was a bad season," another man replied, holding out a bottle of beer towards Jack. He took it with a smile of thanks, twisting the cap and taking a mouthful of the slightly warm liquid.

"Forgive me for asking, but it doesn't look like the sort of damage you would expect from rain…"

"You don't believe us, fine," the man said with a shrug. "What are you anyway, a builder?" Jack shook his head with a laugh.

"No, just curious." He decided to stop his line of conversation for fear of building up too much suspicion, although he imagined that many of the villagers knew exactly why they were there, so soon after the disappearance of two American's. Ethan returned from unloading his computer equipment, overhearing the last of the conversation and exchanging a confused look with Jack. Jack shrugged, taking another slug from the moist brown bottle. They'd be more time for questions later he was sure.

XXXXXXXXXXX

The laboratory was Brains' sanctuary whenever things were strained in the Tracy household; Alan and Tin Tin having a lover's tiff, Gordon being hunted down by his older brothers after pulling some sort of prank or, worst of all, if Scott and Virgil had an argument. It happened so rarely it was considered by their family to be some sort of sign of the apocalypse, but when they fought, it was best to keep as far from them as possible.

Brains felt that the comfort and assurances the family were sharing with each other, would sound forced and false coming from him. He'd kept his distance from the brothers, understanding they were dealing with the current situation in their own way and didn't need, or really want, any interference.

He'd been looking over the security equipment he'd been working on. After rescues where Scott or the others felt the machinery or the personnel had been at risk, he would work to design something to improve their security and keep their minds at ease. The earpieces had worked wonders and were a 'Godsend in the rescue zone' according to all of the brothers. Following a rescue in a network of caves, where Alan had 'disappeared', Scott had suggested some sort of tracking device. Alan had been safe and well, but his earpiece communicator had lost transmission beneath the layers of limestone rock above him. Brains lifted the tiny chips he had designed, each with an individual signal for each brother. He took them in his hand and made his way to Jeff Tracy's own sanctuary, his study.

Jeff greeted him with a warm smile, but Brains could easily see the dark circles below his eyes, the deep set frown in his lips. He looked haggard.

"The locator chips..." Jeff sighed as Brains placed them onto the desk silently. Brains stepped back, his eyes flickering across Jeff's face uncertainly.

"Is this an 'I told you so' moment?" Jeff asked as Brains managed a weary smile.

"N-no. J-just a c-comment." Jeff pushed the microchips around his desk with his middle finger before sitting back and rubbing at his eyes.

Brains studied his employer closely, believing this to be a rare moment of panic and alarm in his usually calm and poised exterior. Rarely had he seen Jeff Tracy look so defeated, even when his sons had been in the most terrifying of rescues, their own lives precariously held in the balance, he'd managed to keep a level head and cool demeanour. He believed his sons were capable of overcoming the most difficult of rescue situations; there was no earthquake, no mudslide, no collapsed building, no train wreak that his team could not deal with.

But when it came to his sons rescuing themselves...

Scott and Virgil had been missing for one week. There had been no contact made by whoever it was that held them. There had been no demands for a ransom, details of equipment, a request for Jeff to hand over some of their greatest inventions. His two eldest sons were strong, they were fearless in the face of uncertainty. How many times had Virgil taken himself in the Mole, or any other piece of equipment, not really knowing what lay ahead of him, without a hint of hesitation? How many times had Scott taken control at the rescue zone, assessing the information, the disaster before the back up of his brothers had arrived?

His mind was cluttered with images that each news channel showed on repeat whenever a terrorist group abducted workers. Grainy images highlighting the threats to be carried out against the innocent should the government not comply with their requests. There hadn't been anything like this showing Scott or Virgil. John had been given the unenviable task of trawling networks of information from all over the world.

But not knowing exactly where his sons were, who had them, what they wanted with them...what they might have already done to them...

"I want you to install these chips into Gordon, Alan and John," Jeff said suddenly, his attention returning to the quiet inventor.

"A-a-are you sure?" Brains asked gently. It had been a contentious issue when Brains had first taken the idea to Jeff. He didn't want to put his sons through any unnecessary procedures, especially painful ones. He saw the chips as being overly precautious. They had their earpieces and wrist communicators which could be used to track any of them during a rescue situation.

But they had never faced a situation like this one before.

"Yes. Do it Brains." Brains nodded meekly and gathered the chips together, making his way back to his lab.

XXXXXXXXXX

Virgil's hair stuck up on end from running his hands through it constantly as they had plotted in whispers how they might manage to get out of their prison and find safety in the depths of the rainforest surrounding them. Scott talked at length about his Amazon training; the incredible wealth of resources they could use to survive a week or however long it took to find help.

"We don't know who or what is out there," Virgil said. "We might just end up finishing ourselves off a bit sooner." Scott glanced at him and then at their surroundings. Virgil followed his gaze and shrugged.

"But, it's got to be better than this, right?" Scott smiled at him, punching the side of his shoulder softly.

"Right."

XXXXXXXXXX

Gordon pushed himself through another length, powerful arms pulling through the water. He had one goal, achieve fifty lengths. Then he'd think about going back to join the rest of the family in trying not to think about what might be happening to Scott and Virgil.

His fingers gripped the cold stone edge of the pool and Gordon hoisted himself out, pulling his goggles off and wiping his face. His chest was heaving, having pushed himself to his limit in a hope that the aching in his lungs and his arms would distract him from everything else.

Above him the sky was moody, clouds of black and grey inflating and expanding out across a sky usually a tranquil blue.

"Storm's coming, son." His father's deep voice came from behind him and Gordon glanced over his shoulder. His father looked a lot older, his face lined with wrinkles, no doubt caused by the recent worry.

"Yeah," Gordon managed, taking the towel his father held out to him and following him up the stairs towards the lounge, both avoiding even glancing at the portraits along the wall. Jeff cleared his throat as Gordon took a seat on the couch, rubbing the drops of water that trickled down the back of his neck.

"We need to discuss International Rescue," he said after a moment. Gordon glanced up at his father before shaking his head.

"What's to discuss?"

"Resuming procedures...albeit with a different personnel." Gordon snorted in disbelief.

"While Scott and Virgil are missing, you want business as usual?"

"It isn't ideal Gordon, I know this. What I want most of all is to keep you, Alan and John here, safe at all times. But we have a duty as International Rescue."

"I understand that Dad, but we don't have enough man power with Scott and Virgil missing..." he trailed off, miserably reminded of the family's dire situation.

"You, John and Alan are more than capable of running a rescue," Jeff insisted. "Scott and Virgil might have more experience, but you and Alan have faced a huge number of challenging situations and worked through them and John will be able to handle co-ordinating the rescue from Mobile Control."

"You know that Scott and Virgil will be out of business when they get back," Gordon half smiled. "Or they will have me and Alan killed for any dents or scratches on their 'Birds."

Jeff smiled at Gordon's gentle joking. '_When they got back'_sounded optimistic. Jeff agreed wholeheartedly. His boys would come home. He was certain of it.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

The faint sounds of an operatic aira swept through the hallway. Jeff paused as he reached John's suite, watching him hunched over a computer, his hands dragging through his striking platinum hair. He thought he heard a small sniff, a soft sigh and waited.

"Bring up satellite maps of Malaysia," John commanded and his eyes watched the computer bring up numerous variations of the same maps, all showing dense greenery of the rainforest, no signs of life. John traced a shaky finger across the screen, the image moving slowly following his gentle touch before he dropped his hand.

John sighed deeply and sat back, rubbing his tired eyes.

"John?" Jeff asked, stepping into the room. John turned in his chair to face his father, turning down his choice of soothing music.

"I can't find anything that would help," he admitted. "There's nothing...and I just wish I could remember something that was said or some information from that rescue, but it's all so blurry...I mean after the second explosion...Gordon couldn't hear anything and I was so caught up with that, I didn't even notice they were gone...maybe if I'd realised sooner..."

"John. Stop." His father's voice was still commanding, despite the soft tone. He reached out and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, a gentle squeeze to alleviate some of the misery John had piled on himself. Jeff sat back as John's pale eyes reluctantly met his. Deep lines scarred underneath his eyes, telling of restless nights.

"I can't stop Dad. What if we are already too late?"

"No, I refuse to believe that." There was a heavy silence.

"There's something I didn't tell you...when we found Scott and Virgil's sashes..." John paused, caught by his father's understanding gaze.

"The sashes...uh...they had blood on them..."

"Well, I imagine they put up a bit of a fight..." Jeff managed a smile, although his trademark resilient smile beginning to look forced. John swallowed and lowered his gaze, feeling sick as he remembered his own trembling fingers brushing across the scorched material.

"And they had bullet holes in them..." Jeff reached over and took John's hand, squeezing it with a firm reassurance.

"I know. Gordon told me." John glanced up at his father, his eyes sorrowful and apologetic, but Jeff brushed away his concern.

"I don't believe we've lost them John. Don't ask me why, but... We'll get them back. Hopefully soon."

"We have the best technology in the world and yet we can't find two of our own family..."

"We will John. Just as long as we don't give up."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

The bowl of cashew nuts clattered to the floor as Kyrano felt his heart lurch, his breath catch in his throat as he held back a furious roar. His hands gripped the sideboard tightly as he felt his breath coming in harsh gasps, his head pounding as a flickered imaged swirled through his mind. A sudden smell of decaying vegetation, droplets of misty rain, warm against his skin.

"Run!" he heard the word shouted clearly in his mind, the feeling of the vegetation battering against skin, the clatter of men running with weapons behind him.

"Scott…Virgil…?" Kyrano whispered in disbelief, not entirely sure what he was experiencing.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was at the same time each evening that everyone ate. Virgil and Scott given basic rice, none of the vegetables and fruits that grew in abundance in the surrounding forest which the youngest boys of the group searched for each day. The guards would sit with their backs to Scott and Virgil, talking and laughing loudly while a young boy was given the duty of feeding the two prisoners. The same emotionless eyes of the guards greeted them and Scott and Virgil exchanged glance.

The young man looked firstly at Scott, then Virgil as he handed over the bowls. Virgil took his, moving closer to the boy, noting the absence of a weapon.

A dangerous oversight for the captors.

It went against everything he stood for, but Scott smashed the bowl across the side of the boy's head, wincing as he fell limply to the ground, emitting a soft cry. Virgil pushed the door to their jail fully open, grabbing Scott's wrist tightly and beginning the sprint across the open area of the settlement towards the thick forest.

The yells from the guards were filled with rage and Scott heard the crackle of gunfire explode behind him as he and Virgil spilled into the forest, battling through the overgrown vegetation towards freedom.

XXXXXXXXXX

On hearing the commotion from the kitchen, Tin Tin called out to her father and on having no response, placed down the interior design magazine she was trying to distract herself with and quickly moved towards the kitchen. At first, she couldn't see her father, but she heard him moaning softly and rushed to the other side of the breakfast bar. He lay on the ground, his body tense and jerking every so often. His eyes were squeezed shut.

"Father!" she cried out, dropping to her knees beside him, her hands hovering above his twitching form before she grabbed hold of one of his hands between both of hers. His eyes opened for a moment and Tin Tin gasped as she saw terror in her father's eyes.

"Brains! Mr. Tracy! Anyone!" she yelled, squeezing his hand and whispering words of comfort, although she was unsure if she could hear him. Brains quickly arrived.

"We need to get him to the infirmary," Tin Tin said, looking desperately at Brains.

"C-c-can he hear us?" Brains asked. Tin Tin turned back to her father as he let out a long wail.

"No!" he yelled out, startling both Brains and Tin Tin before Kyrano's face twisted into a grimace, he made a soft gasping sound and his body went limp.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Virgil continued to run, his feet thudding against the muddy ground, sliding over the carpet of slimy leaves. He put his years as a star quarterback to use, hearing the yells of encouragement, the desire to outrun the opposition, the sweet taste of victory on his tongue.

The branches and leaves of the forest scratched at his arms and face, as though determined to keep him trapped there. His breath came in harsh gasps, sweat mixed with the dampness of the forest floor dripping from the ends of his hair.

His chest burned, lungs straining to pull in enough oxygen, his bruised ribs screaming out in protest as he sucked in more air. He wasn't sure how much energy he had left.

"Keep running Virgil!" Scott's voice came from up ahead of him and pushed him on, putting as much distance as he could between himself and the foreign shouts and yells behind.

Virgil came across a thick mass of interweaving vegetation, trapping him. He cried out in frustration and immediately heard Scott calling out to him.

"Keep going!" he yelled back, determined to have at least one of them be successful in their escape.

Pulling at the exposed branches frantically, he glanced over his shoulder as one of the guards brought the baton down on the back of his head.

XXXXXXXXXXX

As Scott heard Virgil's yell, he knew his brother had been caught and he stumbled in his run, looking back over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of him.

"Virg!" he called out, knowing that he shouldn't give away his position. "Virgil?"

"Keep going Scott...ah!" Virgil's voice faded to a loud groan and Scott looked back towards the direction he was running, seeing nothing but swaying lianas and thick tree roots creating a drunken path towards freedom. Scott could hear the shouts of the guards getting closer to him and he felt almost panic take over him.

"Virgil..." he tried again, his voice becoming weaker. He'd escaped like this before, stumbling across seemingly endless sand dunes, the sun scorching his face, leaving one of their party behind.

He couldn't leave Virgil behind though. He would never forgive himself if anything were to happen...

"Stop!"

The voice behind him made his decision easy. He was going back with Virgil.


	7. Tales from the Forest

_Usual disclaimers apply. Warnings for descriptions of violence and strong language in this chapter. Thanks to all reading and reviewing. _

Kyrano opened his eyes as he heard the door of the infirmary swish open. He eased himself into a sitting position as Brains handed him a glass of water as requested. Tin Tin hovered by his side, fluffing his pillows.

"How d-d-do you f-f-feel now?" Brains asked him, pushing his glasses up his nose as Kyrano drained the glass.

"I think I just overheated in the kitchen," Kyrano said, meeting Brains' eyes with a steady gaze.

"You l-l-looked like you were h-h-having a fit..." Brains objected, matching Kyrano's gaze with his own.

"If there is a m-m-medical condition I s-s-should be aware of…" Brains trailed off as Tin Tin shook her head, dismissing the question.

"My father has told you what happened. Please Brains, he needs to rest." Brains hesitated, but at Tin Tin's insistent nod, he left the infirmary, closing the door behind him quietly. Left alone, Kyrano placed his hand over his daughters, easing her closer.

"It was not overheating Father, was it?" she asked softly. Kyrano shook his head with a soft sigh.

"I have spoken with you many times about my childhood in Malaysia…I lived in a small village with my mother and father, your grandmother and grandfather. We lived a long time in our own community, without any interference. We were thought to be almost 'backwards' with our traditions and our simple way of life. But it was a happy time."

Tin Tin smiled fondly as her father recalled the memories. She had been soothed to sleep as a child by stories from her father's village, traditional tales that had been passed down through generations. She understood the deep beliefs the villagers held towards the forest and its power.

"My mother married again and she had another son. My half-brother. We would spend many hours of the day playing and learning about the forest together. My step-father was a shaman, he knew which plants and flowers could cure, could grant haunting visions…could kill…He was a powerful man, the villagers said when they spoke with him about illness, he had an understanding greater than they could have told him. It was as though he could experience their pain by getting inside their thoughts. It was said that my half-brother had powers greater than his father…"

"He had great powers and as we grew older, he refined his talents. He did not use them to cure, as his father had. No, he used them for wrong purposes. He used his powers to control others, to carry out deeds that were inherently evil."

"You have never told me this Father," Tin Tin commented as Kyrano stopped for a moment. He glanced at Tin Tin with a sad smile.

"It is not a happy story my daughter. I have not seen him since he was banished from the village…I do not know what happened to him…but I have a suspicion…Tin Tin, the village that International Rescue visited was my home village…I believe this demon, my half-brother, is involved in what had happened."

"But how could you possibly…?" Tin Tin paused as she saw genuine devastation cross her father's face.

"He shows me visions…he has shown me Scott and Virgil…"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Information was beginning to filter through to Jeff about the area in which Scott and Virgil had gone missing, thanks to Penny's contacts and some networking with MI6 agents based in Malaysia. It was early morning when Penny called in with another update, but Jeff had been waiting at his desk for hours, unable to sleep for any length of time. Penny smiled pleasantly as their satellite link connected and her face appeared on his computer screen.

"Good morning Jeff.

"Good evening Penny," Jeff smiled at the age old exchange between the two.

"I've been in touch with Jack and Ethan. They made it to the village the boys were working in. It's as isolated as the boys reported. They are reliant on an old telephone system to speak with Sir Jeremy and myself. It is not the most reliable system, so information from now on could be limited."

"I understand. John spoke at length with me about the basic nature of the village. What information did they pass on to you?"

"Well, they thought that perhaps the town would be buzzing with the news that International Rescue had been there, the fact that there were causalities in the recent attack, but there's been nothing…"

"Nothing?" It was rare that the arrival of International Rescue in any town, village or city did not cause some sort of fuss. The general secrecy of both their identities and their equipment meant that most were desperate to catch a glimpse of those regarded as near superheroes. As a result of constant attempts to photograph and film the rescues, Brains had fitted electromagnetic devices which would prevent any video or photographs being recorded. For a small village like the one the boys had visited, being silent about their recent International Rescue experiences, Jeff was shocked and a little worried.

"Jack told me he'd asked some very blunt questions about what had happened to the buildings in the village and was told that they had collapsed during the monsoon season…" She trailed off with a helpless shrug. Concern flared in Jeff. He wondered if the whole terrorist threat and rescue was an elaborate guise to entice his sons to their fate.

"Is it a cover up?"

"Not exactly Jeff, the national press have reported it and given the name of the organisation claiming responsibility as a rebel group protesting the Indonesian occupation of their land...it has been a long standing issue within the country Jeff."

"Perhaps the locals are just too scared to speak out?" Jeff put in, watching Penny shake her head.

"The two agents have worked in a huge number of terrorist cases in the country...they said they have never seen anything quite like this. People are calm, almost placid were the words they used...Jeff, I'm not entirely sure what is going on...this isn't simply a terrorist group taking hostages..." Jeff's forehead creased as he leant forward on his desk, the muscles in his neck tightening.

"What are you telling me Penny? That we've been specifically targeted?"

"That's what Sir Jeremy and I believe Jeff, yes..." Jeff sat back, sighing deeply.

"Should we expect some sort of ransom demand? It's been two weeks since they disappeared…" Penny's face remained calm, but she was equally as worried as Jeff.

"The agents in Malaysia are trying to find anyone that might tell them more…I will update you as soon as I hear anything."

"Thanks Penny, we will speak soon." Jeff terminated the link and opened the cupboard in his study, taking another bottle of Penny's malt whiskey. Beside the bottle were Scott dog tags from his last tour of duty, North Korea, a memory of a past life that seemed so long ago now. The whiskey slid down his throat easily as he turned over the dog tags in his hand. Scott had handed them to his father when he had officially stepped down from his post in the Air Force and stepped up as the Field Commander for International Rescue. Scott had never spoken openly about leaving an illustrious career behind him.

Well, never to his father, but he assumed that Scott and Virgil would have spoken about it at some point.

Jeff wondered if Scott had known the potential dangers, the heartbreak at watching his own brothers being injured, their lives continually at risk, would he have agreed as readily?

Moving into the lounge, the piano stood silent. Jeff was always mesmerised by the most artistic of his sons as he sat, paint or even oil spattered, and coaxed the most beautiful classical melodies from the instrument. He looked the least likely person to play such music. How Virgil had ever shrugged off the acceptance letter to Julliard Jeff would never know. He'd shared his ideas for International Rescue with Scott and Virgil very early on and wondered whether the need for an engineer amongst the ranks had swayed Virgil's decision.

Jeff could only imagine how the events in their prison camp would be impacting on Scott's state of mind. Sure, he had been in a hostage situation before. But never with his closest brother as a fellow captive. Scott was always level headed and clear on a rescue, the only times Jeff had felt Scott was almost panicking had been the occasions where Virgil had been at risk...The Sentinel incident...Scott had been a wreak, although he would never have admitted it after.

Now they had a daily battle for survival facing them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

The beginnings of sunrise and the accompaniment of the dawn chorus woke the two brothers, bedraggled and exhausted. Scott reached out, touching at Virgil's arm, as if to make sure he was still there. He smiled softly as he felt Virgil's fingers find his hand, a gentle squeeze to tell him he was okay...or as okay as anyone could be in their situation.

"If you could have anything right now, what would it be?" Scott's voice sounded floaty and Virgil struggled to process the words.

Days without food and water as a punishment for their failed escape had left him feeling weak. He didn't care what he'd been told about the body's amazing capacity to survive in even the harshest of conditions, he felt like he could die at any moment.

"Grandma's apple pie..." he mumbled. "A bottle of some nice South American beer..."

"Corona?"

"Yeah...and lime..."

"Yeah."

"A cigarette and Beethoven's Piano Sonata number 20...in G Major..." Virgil trailed off with a half-hearted laugh. Scott joined him before shifting his body so he could look at Virgil. His brother was fading fast, he didn't believe the lack of food and water had everything to do with it.

"We're going to get out of here...it's only a matter of time Virg..."

"I know..."

"I don't think you do...c'mon, stay with me...trust me..."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Alan hadn't slept properly for two weeks, the same number of weeks his brother's had been missing. Having lain in his bed, looking at the coffee stain on his desk for hours, he acknowledged that his quest for sleep was hopeless. He pushed himself to his feet and wandered through his home, finding Tin Tin studying an old, battered book at the kitchen table and Gordon snoring on the couch.

"Would you like a coffee Alan?" Tin Tin asked him, gesturing to the cafitiere sitting in front of her.

"It's one in the morning..."

"I know. More reason for coffee..." Tin Tin shrugged as she poured him one, adding milk and sugar before returning to her book, chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully. Alan sat down next to her, cupping his hands around the chipped mug.

"What are you looking at?" he asked, pointing to the book.

"It's just something my father said earlier today. I wanted to know more about it…it's nothing, really," Tin Tin sighed, pushing away the book and paper and taking a gulp of her coffee.

"Just trying not to think, right?" Alan guessed, smiling sadly as she nodded. He reached over, pulling the book towards him and admiring the title. It was written in Malay and Alan pushed it back towards TinTin.

"It's a book about traditional stories from the Malaysian Rainforest. My father helped write it before he left for America," Tin Tin explained. A flicker of uncertainty crossed Alan's face as Tin Tin opened the book at the page she had previously been studying. She turned it to let Alan see clearly the hand drawn pictures.

"John said these drawings show the village…" she trailed off, watching Alan frown, his fingers smoothing the page.

"What does it say about this place?" he asked softly. Tin Tin pointed to a paragraph of text below a picture showing the tiny huts of the village and some smiling residents.

"The village was only discovered around fifty years ago…despite the development in the rainforests of Indonesia and Malaysia, this area was considered to remote to access, so was left alone. It is still one of the most isolated places in the world." Alan nodded, the descriptions of the mass of trees surrounding the village and the distance from nearby towns from Scott at mobile control had told of that isolation. Alan had been slightly unnerved by this. It was 2065; there were very few places that man had not explored, especially with technology allowing travel to those areas cut off by modern infrastructure. How had this village managed to remain hidden?

"My father lived here…" she said. "He used to tell me stories about their traditions. What life was like, how they lived while cut off from the rest of the world. They used traditional medicines, they taught skills to survive in the forest rather than algebra and science."

"It sounds…I don't know…unreal!" Tin Tin smiled softly, her eyes returning to the page in front of them.

"My father says that when the Professors arrived in the village, they were shocked. No one had expected to find a village tucked away in the hills of the rainforest. But there they were. They taught the locals English. They helped them develop a small hydro-electric turbine to generate electricity. They helped those in the village, but they disappeared…"

Alan had been smiling as Tin Tin told him a story that could have been from centuries before, explorers travelling the world to discover new lands, people and cultures. When she mentioned the disappearances, his face fell. It was too similar to the Tracy family's current nightmare; people helping this village and suddenly, inexplicably, disappearing into the depths of the rainforest.

"They were never found…" Tin Tin said slowly, her dark eyes shimmering as Alan let his breath out in a long sigh, placing his head in his hands.

"My father has spoken about his home with me. There is a curse Alan and it takes men from their families, from their loved ones…"

"What?" Alan asked, lifting his head, glaring almost accusingly at Tin Tin.

"Father talks of a demon that haunts the village…it would explain why Scott and Virgil just disappeared…" Tin Tin leaned forward, speaking quickly.

"It's a story Tin Tin. It's not real!" Alan yelled. Tin Tin visibly flinched at Alan's harsh tone, her eyes widening. She knew, however, that Alan was prone to outbursts during moments of extreme stress and chose to respond as calmly as possible.

"He knows this place Alan..." Tin Tin spoke softly, reaching out to touch Alan's hand, bring him back to her and allow her to help him deal with the worry of losing his older brothers. Alan snatched his hand away, getting to his feet and walking one lap around the kitchen, trying to gather his thoughts. Instead, he turned on Tin Tin, his eyes bright with tears of worry as he expressed the horrific facts that everyone was so keen to avoid.

"You want to talk about some kinda airy fairy nonsense...a curse that takes men? It's bullcrap Tin Tin!" Tin Tin watched his face fall, eyes clouding with doubt.

"I mean…Scott and Virgil might not even be alive right now…" Tin Tin got to her feet, moving towards Alan and wrapping her arms around his middle, pulling him close to offer some sort of comfort.

"You can't lose hope Alan," she whispered as Alan relented, his head tucking under her chin.

"You didn't hear what I did…gunshots Tin Tin…" His voice was soft, close to breaking and Tin Tin held him closer, burying her nose in his soft blonde curls.

"We can't lose hope," she repeated softly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The tiny staircase was precariously navigated by Jack and Ethan. A week of meandering up and down the rickety staircase had not made them any more confident in its stability. Their host, Kiri, was opening rusted pots of paint, admiring the colour with a smile. When he saw the two men arriving in the main bar, he placed down the paintbrushes, instead lighting the small gas stove and preparing a pot of morning coffee.

"Morning Kiri," Ethan said pleasantly, pointing towards the tins. "Thinking of a change?" Kiri placed two battered metal mugs on the counter and nodded.

"A fresh lick of paint," he smiled. "It is always good to keep the place looking nice." Jack glanced around. The café looked as though a lick of paint was long overdue. The walls were patchy, plaster and paint flaking off the walls. Large cracks had appeared as though the building had survived an earthquake, although Jack knew earthquakes were few in this part of the world.

"You might need some plaster as well to repair those," Jack commented offhand, pointing to some of the cracks along the top of the wall.

"Ah the walls? They were damaged during the bomb…" Kiri trailed off, looking at the two visitors. His expression was pained and he placed his paint brush down, taking off his apron and making his way to the front of the café.

"Kiri…wait," Jack pleaded. "Ethan and I…we know what happened here. We know about International Rescue." At this Kiri lifted his head and took a deep breath.

"People don't like to talk about what has happened here…"

"Tell me about it," Jack said with a smile. "When we first arrived here, some guys told me that the buildings collapsed because of monsoon rains." Kiri half smiled, but it was clear he felt very uneasy talking about the recent events. He waited until a group of children, kicking a soccer ball had bundled past the doorway in a mass of laughter and squeals before speaking again.

"They came to help us. They did help us, they saved many, helped clear up the mess…and two vanish in the forest."

"Do you know who took them? Where they might be?" Ethan asked him.

"The demon that haunts our forest takes many men. He has taken them, stolen their bodies and will take their souls."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The appointment at the CIA, Foreign Intelligence Office had been arranged with some from Sir Jeremy. He had some friends in high places and some friends who owed him a favour. The interview room was dark and, to another agent, might have been intimidating, but Penny had faced far tougher situations. The Mr. Anderson who had agreed to meet with her, entered the room and took his place across the shiny table, resting his cool gaze on Penelope.

"So, what can I do for you?" he drawled, after offering her coffee, which she declined. She did accept the slightly soft biscuit, however.

"We have been alerted to terrorist activity within Malaysia, in villages close to the border with Indonesia, where some of our nationals working as aid workers have been placed at risk. There seems to be a pattern to these attacks and we at MI6 feel that there could be a growing terrorist network within the area." Mr. Anderson slurped his coffee with a half smile.

"You Brits are late to this one," he commented. "This isn't a new network or group. There has been a terrorist group that we have monitored in this area for some years now."

"For how long have you monitored this terrorist group?" Lady Penelope fixed the greying man with a piercing glare.

"This is something that cannot be disclosed without full permissions..." He gave her a false smile of apology.

"My government has sent me here with the strictest instructions," Penelope continued calmly. "There is a significant threat to our aid workers and military in the region. We need any intelligence that you have to be disclosed to us."

"Lady Penelope..."

"Perhaps Sir Jeremy did not make it clear to you the level of threat we in British Intelligence believe this group to have. Notably suggestions of attacks taking place in our own countries. Now, Mr. Anderson, our agencies have always been on the best of terms, so please, what can you tell me about this group?"

XXXXXXXXXXXX

The mosquito bites on Scott's arms were beginning to itch, but he knew better than to scratch at them and risk open wounds and infection. Virgil had given him far too much gory information about the effects of this to put him off for a lifetime. Scott let his head roll back, leaning against the mud wall behind him as he watched Virgil sleeping. He seemed almost peaceful and was reluctant to disturb him. He felt dreadful though, as though he had the flu, but the symptoms were far more severe.

He wiped at his forehead with his arm, knowing that while they were in very humid conditions, his temperature had increased over the past few days. He'd put the aching in his bones and muscles down to the battering he and Virgil had endured after their attempted escape. He'd been sick, twice, following the beating, but he'd put that down to nerves and worry.

As Scott watched Virgil sighing softly in his sleep, he closed his own eyes, knowing that things were about to get far worse for them.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

As Penelope got into the Rolls Royce, she took out her earpiece. John had suggested any calls made on mobile phones could easily be traced and Penny was better to have the benefit of the secure network their earpieces provided.

"I've had some success Jeff," she sighed. "It seems that the American government have been watching this area and the attacks very carefully. This is not an isolated kidnapping incident."

"What did they tell you?"

"Previous abductions have involved journalists, aid workers and, in one case, an embassy representative."

"So what do this group want? Why Scott and Virgil? Why International Rescue?"

"That I don't know Jeff. I couldn't ask anything specific to International Rescue for fear of exposing my links to you."

"I understand Penny," Jeff replied. "Thank you." Penelope removed the earpiece, terminating her link with the Island base. She opened her handbag and pulled out a packet of French cigarettes. She had given up the habit and had been smoke free for a number of years.

But what she hadn't told Jeff was the descriptions of the fate of the abducted workers. The tortures, the torment, the conditions.

Their executions.

She'd fought an onslaught of emotions as Mr. Anderson had spoken those words to her.

As she opened the cigarettes, her fingers brushed across a piece of tattered paper, a smear of cerise pink across it with the words 'This is your colour Penny' in Virgil's elegant scrawl. A reminder of the days of deciding a colour for her Rolls Royce where too much red wine had resulted in Virgil cheekily suggesting the dazzling pink she was now so fond of.

Her stomach lurched.

"Parker, stop the car please." Her sudden request was quickly acknowledged and Penelope demurely opened the door and made her way to the roadside, emptying her pitiful Viennese biscuit into the shrubs. Gloved hands smoothed her blonde bob before she turned to Parker, who handed her a bottle of water with a sad smile.

"Thank you Parker."


	8. In Sickness and Health

_Usual disclaimers apply. Warnings for descriptions of violence and strong language. Thanks to all you continue to read and review._

_Week 3..._

The cloud lingered at the tops of the tallest trees surrounding them. The sounds of the forest were almost familiar to them as they were tossed two battered wooden bowls filled with sticky rice. A measly portion for two who were so used to eating large homecooked dinners. Virgil dug dirty fingers into the bowl, scooping out the rice and shovelling it into his mouth. He savoured the bland taste, glad for any sort of sustenance after days of nothing.

Scott pushed the wooden bowl away from him, wrapping an arm around his stomach weakly.

"You've gotta eat Scott," Virgil said, pausing in his eating to watch his brother carefully. Scott wearily lifted his eyes to meet those of his brother.

"I can't Virg..." His body shuddered momentarily and Virgil reached out to take Scott's wrist in his hand. His skin was clammy and pale. Heartbeat fast. Scott's face showed the strain of trying to stop the tremors shaking his body, his teeth clenched together as another wave of nausea crept upon him.

"Scott..." Virgil hesitated as Scott pushed the bowl towards him, removing his wrist from Virgil's weakened grip. Scott looked away, leaning his head against the wooden bars and gazing out across the clearing.

Virgil swallowed nervously, feeling his own body beginning to tremble. Though his were not caused by any illness, rather the fear that this awful situation had got even more desperate.

As he'd slept, Scott had yelled in his sleep, succumbing to the fever which had built up over the past few days. Virgil had been helpless to do anything but stroke Scott's hair, cushion his head against his leg and pray that someone would find them soon.

He didn't know how long he could cope without Scott by his side. It was a horrible experience anyway, but at least with Scott it was somewhat bearable.

"Scott...you're ill and you need to eat now more than ever..." Virgil was trying hard not to beg, trying to perfect the hardened exterior Scott could so easily slip into place.

"Best you have it Virg," Scott said softly. "It will do you good...he's going to question you about us...you're going to need to be strong..." Virgil pushed shaky fingers into his mussed, dirty hair and turned away from Scott.

"Just when things couldn't get any worse..." he said with a wry smile.

"It'll be over soon," Scott said. Virgil turned to look back at him, a critical eye cast over Scott's emotionless gaze and slumped shoulders.

"That's what worries me."

XXXXXXXXX

Gordon gripped the steering yoke of Thunderbird 2 tightly as John announced to Alan their ETA at the danger zone. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gordon's head drop and a soft sigh escape from the redhead.

"You're not nearly as accurate as Virgil," Gordon said after a moment, pulling his face into a weak smile. John smiled shakily, tugging at the long sleeves of his thermal shirt, required for the bitter temperatures they would face in the Himalayan terrain. He remained silent, knowing Gordon was concentrating on the tough task at hand, piloting Thunderbird 2, communicating with their father and Alan continually and trying not to think about how much easier it might have been if Scott and Virgil had been there.

For two weeks, International Rescue had stayed quiet, rescue calls had been few and far between. A real blessing.

But a report of a collapsed school following a huge earthquake in remote Bhutan called for their help. It was a situation the authorities could not deal with alone. With Jeff and Brains co-ordinating the rescue from their Island Base, Alan taking control of Thunderbird 1 and Gordon piloting Thunderbird 2 with John as co-pilot. As they had set off, Jeff had wondered for how long this would be the line-up.

The satellite imagery of the rescue zone showed few areas suitable to land airships the size of Thunderbird 2 and Gordon's almost horrified expression would have made John laugh at another time. Alan had already landed precariously in the school playing field, trying to communicate with the local people and obtain a landing site for Thunderbird 2, just as Scott would have done.

Except, as Alan was painfully aware, he was not Scott Tracy.

"Alan, this is Thunderbird 2," Gordon snapped into his ear. "Time's running out, do we have a landing site?"

"Yeah…there is a makeshift soccer pitch. It should be big enough…"

"Should be?" Gordon asked. "I'm not Virgil remember…" John brought up the satellite image of the pitch, quickly obtaining measurements. He turned to Gordon.

"It'll be tight Gordon, but it's the only place available," he told him grimly. Gordon groaned, manoeuvring the large craft over the pitch and preparing the landing procedure, his eyes darting between all of the sensors giving him details of how close to hitting the cliff face and buildings around the area he really was.

"God, Virgil is gonna kill me…" he muttered as he heard the tell-tale squeal of the side of one wing being dragged against the solid rock mountainside. The landing was less than perfect, Thunderbird 2 bumped a number of times before coming to rest on the uneven gravel pitch.

"I'll run diagnostics to check for any structural damage," John advised, setting the programme to begin running.

"It's the paintwork Virgil will be concerned about," Gordon sighed, pulling on his thick body warmer and fleece lined hat. John half smiled as he followed suit, grabbing hold of the medical supply bag and swinging it over one shoulder.

"You did good Gordon," he assured him. "I think Virgil would have been rather impressed with that."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Manap knew about how to extract yells of pain from captives. He watched the International Rescue man eye his tools wearily before smiling. His large stature eclipsed the tall, muscular International Rescue members. But beatings were for animals. Manap knew many more sophisticated methods of causing pain and discomfort.

But if you had asked him where he had learned this, he would not have been able to tell. It seemed that one day he was a subsistence farmer, growing rice in the padi fields close to his village and the next, he was considered a terrorist.

The more time he spent with the International Rescue man, the more he saw flickers of his past life, a life he thought well forgotten, buried deep within his fuzzy mind.

At the suppressed cry from his victim, Manap stepped back, the sound taking him back to a day where he heard his own son cry out in pain. Manap placed down the sharpened bamboo stick which he had jammed below Virgil's nails, his eyes fixed on the tense form of the man before him. He looked to be around the same age as Manap and for a moment, he wondered if he had children or a wife that cared for him, would be missing him.

Manap managed a small smile as the man raised his eyes towards him, questioning his break in torture. His dark brown eyes flickered nervously as Manap reached into his pocket. They softened into confusion when Manap pulled out a homemade cigarette. Raw tobacco rolled inside a dried banana leaf. He lit it quickly before offering it towards the captive, placing it between his lips and allowing the man to take a short draw.

"Manap," he introduced himself, placing his large hand against his muscular chest. The man acknowledged this with a shaky smile.

"Virgil," he said softly as Manap took a draw of the cigarette himself.

"I help you," Manap said quietly. Virgil looked at him suspiciously.

"What?" he questioned, but Manap had already stubbed out the cigarette and shook his head.

"No look eyes," he said urgently as Belah appeared in the doorway. Virgil opened his mouth to speak, but Manap had already turned away, greeting Belah with a low bow. Virgil tugged uselessly at his wrists, tied to the pole in front of him. Belah stepped in front of him, fingers locking around his chin as his head was forced upwards. He studied the marred skin thoughtfully before releasing his grip, Virgil letting his head fall, chin resting against his chest as he fought to remain composed and indifferent in front of Belah.

He almost failed when Belah extracted a sharp silver dagger from his belt and held it against Virgil's cheek for a moment.

Instead, Belah cut the ropes binging Virgil's wrists to the pole, Virgil falling back against the ground, closing his eyes as he waited for the next moment of abuse.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As Jeff listened to the sharp exchanges between the brothers at the rescue zone, he wondered whether he had been too quick to reinstate International Rescue when it was so painfully clear that their minds were elsewhere. The three brothers stood in front of a teetering school, the structure damaged beyond repair and although equipped with machinery which could help stabilise the building, Gordon felt that it was too late but to race against time to get the last of the children clear.

"We need to get in there now!" Gordon shouted, his voice breaking in his throat.

"It's not safe Gordon," John advised, the usual calmness of his voice lost as the situation deteriorated. Alan looked between the two brothers.

"We can use the Mole to drill under…"

"Any movement of the ground will have that building crashing down within seconds," Gordon snapped. "There's only one way and it's going in now and getting them out before they are crushed under there!" At base, Jeff looked towards Brains, who was studying the visuals coming from Mobile Control, cameras set up to monitor the situation and allow Brains to make suggestions from Tracy Island.

"I-I-I'm afraid Gordon is c-c-correct," Brains confirmed. "T-t-there's no telling just w-w-when the building might collapse though…uh, it c-c-could be any time."

"Brains there are kids in there…their parents are crying and yelling to us to do something! We can't walk away! Scott and Virgil would have been in there by now, you know that!" Gordon's cheeks flushed angrily, despite the cold temperatures. Alan looked at him and nodded.

"Ok Gordon. Then go," Alan ordered, ignoring John's restraining hold on his arm, a message to rethink his order.

"Al…" he protested, but Gordon had already grabbed the med kit and was sprinting across the cracked tarmac road towards the school entrance.

"Gordon! Stand down, you do not have clearance to enter the building!" Jeff's voice roared over the radio, but Gordon was determined to see this rescue out, to do what he felt Scott and Virgil would have done in this situation.

As he entered the building, he clicked on his head torch, highlighting the collapsed areas of roof. The air was dusty, specks of plaster dancing in the beam from his torch. He pulled his scarf over his mouth, glancing around him.

"Gordon, I've sent the infra-red scan to you. Looks like there are a number of people in the room at the back of the building…" John's voice came through on his earpiece and Gordon glanced down at his wrist communicator, smiling a silent thanks to John for letting him go through with this.

"FAB Mobile Control," Gordon responded professionally before making his way along the narrow corridor, stepping over mounds of fallen wall carefully, trying desperately not to shift anything.

Amongst the dirt and rubble, Gordon caught glimpses of colourful drawings, stick figures with smiling faces and basic English words for their family members. He swallowed thickly, pleading silently with whoever might be listening, to keep those children safe.

"Hello? Can anyone here me?" he called out, taking his med pack off his shoulder and pulling out a large industrial torch. He switched it on, pointing it in the direction of the room at the end of the hall. He smiled as he saw glittering dark eyes staring back at him.

"International Rescue?" he heard a soft voice gasp. Gordon couldn't help the wide smile that crossed his face, that moment of satisfaction, of success. He edged towards the room, moving some shattered glass to the side with his foot, flashing the children a reassuring smile.

It was that moment that the earth began to shake.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The cracked wooden bowl was handed to Manap and he took his place at the table, looking towards the dark haired man who was curled up in pain in the prison he had helped build. The other men of the rebel tribe laughed loudly as the man vomited into the mud, enjoying the pain he suffered. Manap's view of the man was suddenly blocked as a tall figure moved to stand in front of him.

"You didn't hurt him," Belah accused him. Manap stared into his bowl of rice, saying nothing. His large hands rested against the table, clean.

"Why not?"

"I cannot." Manap didn't dare look at Belah, who now stood over him. He knew to look into his eyes would crumble his resistance.

"You cannot?" Manap swallowed thickly, aware of the eyes of his former friends, neighbours from the village fixed on him.

"You better not become useless to me Manap," Belah said, almost conversationally. He moved away from Manap and the others, making his way towards the two captives at the other side of their camp.

Manap pushed his bowl back and made his way to the hut, his eyes passing over the tools he'd created to extract as much pain and suffering as possible. Virgil lay in the middle of the hut, glancing upwards as Manap entered. Belah hovered in the doorway as Manap clenched his fists and grabbed Virgil by his shirt, hauling him upright. Manap forced his mind to go blank, deafening himself to the protests from his victim, the sound of cheekbones crunching beneath his knuckles, the slick warm blood smeared across his hands and Belah's words of praise for his brutality, echoing around in his head.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The ground shook frantically and the air seemed to roar around them. John grabbed hold of Alan, pushing him towards the ground, rather than running directly to the school building. The aftershock seemed to last for hours, but it was only a matter of seconds before everything stabilised again. Alan shoved himself to his feet, quickly trying to pull up the information he had been receiving from Gordon's wrist communicator.

"Mobile Control calling Gordon, do you read me?" he asked, his voice hoarse from the earlier yelling.

"Anything?" John asked. Alan shook his head, trying to reset the communication link from Gordon's communicator. John noticed his hands were shaking violently.

"I can't get any picture from Gordon…maybe his communicator is damaged…?"

"Mobile Control to Gordon, can you hear me? Gordon, respond please!" John demanded, but his pleading was met with a dull silence.

"Gordon calling Mobile Control…" Suddenly his earpiece crackled into life.

"Gordon! Thank God! Are you okay?" John asked him.

"I'll live," Gordon grunted. "I've made it to the classroom."

"Good," John replied. "Have you found the survivors?"

"There are ten children here," Gordon's voice was strangely monotone as Alan quickly asked about the condition of the children. John's heart sank as Gordon remained silent.

It was Gordon's solemn voice that shattered the hopeful silence from the team listening in.

"They're gone."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Virgil was left alone after another series of tortures designed to make him confess all about his ship, the technologies and their designer.

He'd remained silent. Scott and Gordon had told him what to expect in these situations, Scott had taken them all through hostage training having experienced it once.

Virgil had never thought he'd have to use it.

Now, bleeding and bruised on a mud packed floor, he wearily closed his eyes, trying to block out the reality of his fatigue, his injuries, the intense situation which didn't seem to be improving, no matter how many times Scott had assured him he would leave here alive.

It seemed more distant now than ever as he felt the warm blood welling beneath the coarse rope binding his wrists together.

He heard the footsteps approaching him and reluctantly opened his eyes.

"Still nothing?" Belah stood over him, before tugging him into a sitting position, smiling a little at Virgil's suppressed yell of pain. Breathing heavily, Virgil leaned back against the wall of the hut, fixing Belah with, what he hoped, was a look of resistance.

"Oh well...we could always try Scott, although I don't think he is even aware of where he is right now..."

"Don't touch him!" Virgil snarled, shocking himself at how venomous his words had sounded. Belah had expected this response and dragged Virgil to the doorway of the hut, letting him see for himself the sorry state Scott was in.

"In the forests around us, we have many medicines and potions that could help your brother." His voice was quiet as ever, but there was still no warmth to it. Virgil glanced towards Scott, who was slipping between fevered slumber and bouts of sickness.

"He will die Virgil." Belah's doomsday statement brought Virgil's attention back to him.

"He has malaria, I know that," Virgil snapped.

"And requires medicine." Belah sat down on the ground next to Virgil, casting his eye over the fresh bruising on his arms, blood dripped from an open wound above his eyebrow.

"That could all stop," he said. "You just need to tell me..."

"No." Virgil shook his head firmly, not willing to be the brother who gave up the details of their powerful equipment to some madman determined to have his own evil way with them.

Belah knew this and studied Virgil silently as his gaze returned to Scott, shifting uncertainly as he saw Scott once again moan in pain.

A smile snaked across Belah's face as he spoke the next words, softly and almost seductively against Virgil's ear.

"Tell me about one of your machines and I will give Scott the medicine he needs to live."


	9. Enticed by a Demon

_Usual disclaimers apply. Warnings for descriptions of violence and strong language in this story. Thanks again for all reviews and I hope you enjoy this next chapter..._

Silence accompanied the three brothers on their journey home. As Scott and Virgil had done in the past, they flew Thunderbirds One and Two in tandem. As Alan completed the landing procedure for Thunderbird One, he paused, his hands still gripping the steering yoke tightly. His lips trembled as his mind replayed the images of the earlier rescue, Gordon and John carrying tiny, broken bodies from the rubble. Alan had watched, completely numb as they were laid down, the wails and screams of the parents echoing between the mountains that stood guard over the town.

"Thunderbird 1 landing sequence complete. Running diagnostics programme now," Alan reported.

"FAB Thunderbird 1." His father's voice sounded as tired as he felt.

He released the yoke after a moment, his fingers cracking painfully as he moved them. Removing his earpiece, he pushed his fingers into his hair. His hands covered his face amplifying his laboured breathing. He allowed himself the luxury of letting out a soft sob and tried not to feel like a failure.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Virgil held the bowl of steaming water up to Scott's lips. There had been some boiling of leaves, some bark from one of the trees added. Virgil had no choice, but to trust that this potion would cure rather than poison. His wounds and insect bites had been cleansed and rubbed with a sap from a tree. He'd been told it was antiseptic and would help...again, he had no choice, but to trust them.

Virgil clutched Scott's hand in his as he lay against him, his breaths coming uneven now, sweat glistening on his tanned forehead.

"Virg?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

"Y'know I...I don't want you to worry about me...I'm gonna be ok..."

"What are you talking about Scott?" Virgil sighed.

"You need to keep fighting...without me..." Virgil felt his gut drop and his whole body froze for a moment as he heard Scott's words repeat in his head.

"Don't talk like that..."

"Virg..."

"I mean it Scott!" Virgil snapped. He hadn't meant to, but was terrified of what Scott was saying. Scott would never give up, Scott would never leave him, so the potion or whatever it was that Virgil had fed him was obviously not working.

"You told me if you give up, you might as well be dead," he said, softer this time. "I'm not doing this without you Scott, because you are going to be right here with me until this is finished..."

"Or we devise an escape plan..."

"Dig a hole right? Under the ground and we can come up beyond the perimeter fence," Virgil laughed, recalling one of their grandfather's favourite films. An old one but a good one, he'd always said.

"What was that called?" Scott frowned momentarily, recalling a forgotten moment from their childhood.

"Something about an escape...let's not give up on Dad and the brothers just yet though. They're more able than we give them credit for."

"Yeah...had this been Gordon and John though, we'd have had them out of this shithole two weeks ago..." Scott managed a weak smile before sighing softly.

"Have a rest Scott," Virgil advised him. "Give this medicine a chance to work..." Trailing off, Virgil glanced up to see Belah watching them with a satisfied smile. Virgil swallowed thickly, looking back at his brother and hoping he would forgive him for giving in.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Rescue protocol had to be followed, even if they were a different personnel which was why, although tired and dishevelled, Jeff had called an immediate debrief on their arrival back on the island. Earthquakes were never easy and Alan was taking the loss of lives hard, although International Rescue had been powerless to do anything to help them. A blood streaked Gordon stood before Jeff, firmly declaring his feelings that Alan had lost control of the mission, had cost him valuable time by being unable to obtain a suitable landing site for Thunderbird 2 and refused to let him enter the school when he had wanted.

"If I had, maybe it wouldn't have been ten bodies we pulled out…" he finished, his voice hushed. Alan's wide blue eyes brimmed with tears of guilt and anger. Jeff kept his gaze fixed firmly on Gordon, who returned it without flinching.

"You are dismissed Gordon," he snapped after a moment. Gordon managed a snort, casting a critical gaze over Alan before treading muddy footprints through the living room towards his bedroom suite. Alan watched him go, wiping his nose with his sleeve and turning back to look at his father, still hunched over his solid wooden desk.

"Scott would have known what to do..." he whispered, so softly Jeff wasn't sure he had heard it at all.

Jeff dismissed the boys quickly, watching John taking on the older brother role well, murmuring comforting words, reassuring words to Alan as he fought with himself about his judgement on the rescue. Sighing heavily, Jeff turned to Brains, who remained by the desk.

"Alan's right though, isn't he?" Brains was stubbornly silent.

Jeff had never had many confidents in his life. Kyrano and sometimes Scott would provide an understanding ear if Jeff desired. However, more and more he turned to the young scientist he had taken under his wing. Brains and John shared an interest in the development of International Rescues impressive IT interface, Virgil and Brains would wax lyrical about adjustments to the machines and ideas of developing new craft based on Virgil's rescue experiences. Jeff and Brains had a very professional relationship, which had never really gone beyond that, despite his acceptance as 'one of the family'.

Brains cleaned his glasses methodically, avoiding Jeff's searching gaze.

"The technology can't replace an error in judgement," Jeff concluded, sighing. "Alan's a young man, he doesn't have the confidence and the understanding that Scott did..."

Brains glanced up at the use of the past tense.

"Does..." he corrected in a soft voice. Jeff met his gaze, guilt ridden eyes blinking quickly to clear unwanted signs of emotion. Brains was a confident, yes, but there were some things Jeff didn't let anyone see.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jack and Ethan had spent much of the day being led around the village by a man named Guntur. Kiri had accompanied them, interjecting his own comments and experiences from the day International Rescue had arrived. They spoke enthusiastically about the machinery and the four men who had powered them, who had pulled people from the wreckage and treated their injuries.

They spoke very little about the cause of the bombings until they were alone in Guntur's home, drinking thick, strong black coffee. Guntur's house was little more than a small room, a hammock hung in one corner, a table with a plastic basin and some vegetables on it passed for his kitchen. Guntur lit a number of lanterns, preferring the natural light to the harsh glare from the electric bulbs he had installed. It added an eerie ambience to the room, coupled with the subject of their conversation.

"A demon?" Jack said, trying to keep his voice free of the scepticism he felt.

"He takes men, first their bodies, then their souls…" Ethan and Jack exchanged an uncertain look.

"You spoke of this as well Kiri…is this like a story from the village, like a myth?" Ethan asked.

"Myth, no," Kiri said. "How else would the International Rescue men have disappeared and still no one has found them?" Jack rubbed his eye with the base of his hand, feeling the beginnings of frustration bubbling in his stomach.

"There was a bomb in the village…that's why International Rescue came here. Who caused that?" Jack interrupted the mythical tale Guntur was beginning to weave. Both Kiri and Guntur looked at him silently and Jack let out a soft laugh, lowering his head.

"It was this 'demon', right?" Ethan pushed the chair back and got to his feet, Kiri following suit. He felt that now was the time to finish the conversation. Night had fallen, they'd had a long day and Ethan knew when Jack was going to get angry, it was better to walk away.

"Thanks for the coffee Guntur and for the tour. It was most helpful. We're going to head back to the café now…"

"Show me evidence of this demon," Jack said suddenly. He was sick of hearing the same mythical explanations and dealing with locals who didn't want to utter a word about their recent experiences. Jack needed answers, wanted to find this terrorist threat, isolate it, arrest those responsible and get back to the house in Sibu. Guntur shook his head, collecting the cups and placing them in a basin of murky water.

"You cannot just find this demon…he finds you," Guntur advised. Jack sat back in his chair, ignoring the 'hurry up' gesture from Ethan.

"Go on ahead," Jack said, waving them away. "It's a straightforward path back to the village right? I'll catch you up." Ethan hesitated, but Kiri's assurances that Jack could make his own way back eased him out of the door and along the bumpy path through the colourful vegetation towards the village.

"For how long have men 'disappeared' here?" Jack asked Guntur once they were alone.

"This village was discovered by 'Westerners' about fifty years ago. They brought us new technologies, they taught us new skills like speaking English, they helped us improve our village with better buildings, running water in the village…then they disappeared. This was the first time I remember…I was only a boy at the time, but I heard my parents talk about someone who had been banished from the village…a demon…"

"And that was how this story started?"

"More kept disappearing…for the last fifty years..."

"They've never been found? Alive or…well, dead?"

"Never." Guntur looked pained for a moment before Jack cracked a sarcastic smile, pushing his chair back and grabbing a fistful of Guntur's thin vest.

"Are you in on it?" Jack demanded in a harsh whisper, backing him up against the table. Guntur's eyes remained perfectly calm as he spoke.

"No. The demon took my brother, just as he has taken the International Rescue men. I want this stopped as much as you do. I want to find the missing…but I fear we never will." Jack pushed him back, making his way towards the doorway.

"I don't trust you…I don't trust anyone in this village…and I'm going to find those men and prove that these stupid stories you're all spinning are a load of shit!" He turned away from Guntur's hurtful expression, storming into the vegetation and trying to calm the anger he felt ready to erupt at any moment.

He'd been walking for almost five minutes when he realised he'd wandered off the path. In the darkness, it was difficult to make out anything of the forest, he was surrounded by an almost impenetrable darkness. He paused in his determined marching, taking a moment to glance around his surroundings. His eyes picked out the bright green and orange of a tree frog, the furry legs of a tarantula darting below a tree root and the momentary flicker of a firefly.

He was lost.

"Fuck…" he muttered, beginning to walk back in the direction he had come from, hoping he would stumble across Guntur's home again, make a small apology and get help in getting back to the village.

"Excuse me…you are lost?" a voice reached his ears, causing him to jump. A voice was not what he had expected to hear in the depths of the jungles.

"Uh…Guntur…?" he called out, unable to see the owner of the voice…he could hardly see a foot in front of him.

"You are looking for the village, yes?" the voice continued.

"Uh…yeah…can you help me?" Jack asked. He yelped out in shock as a hand seized his wrist, fingers gripping hold of his arm tightly.

"I can help you." Jack was tugged rather than followed his unexpected rescuer, stumbling over tree roots, sliding over damp leaves and decaying plants hoping he wasn't about to step on something poisonous.

"Hey…are you from the village? Do you know about this demon story?" Jack asked, picking out the features of his rescuer as they turned to face him, abruptly halting their dash through the forest. The rescuer was a man, tall and broad. He was bare chested and bald and a smile sneaked across his face, although Jack didn't think it was one showing any sort of happiness.

"Uh…I'm just looking to get back to the village…" Jack said, suddenly realising the danger he was putting himself in.

"You don't want to go back there though, do you?" the voice that spoke was laced with temptation. Jack cleared his throat, shifting between each foot uncertainly.

"You want to know about this demon story? You want to see where these missing men have gone?" Jack wanted to turn and run from this stranger, escape the sudden fear he felt clenching at his insides.

But he couldn't. The man's eyes gleamed momentarily, as though caught by the moonlight and Jack found himself unable to look away.

"I just need some help…" Jack began to protest, but it faded to nothing as the stranger placed a hand on his shoulder and began pushing him along the path.

And then Jack really was lost.

XXXXXXXXXXX

The gentle tick-tock of her bedside clock was usually helpful for soothing Penelope into a deep sleep, but on this night, it was something of an irritating noise. She switched on her bedside lamp, sitting against the iron bed frame and pulling her knees up towards her chest. Her eyes took in the few belongings she kept on her bedside table; her earpiece for conversations with International Rescue, her old fashioned alarm clock which had belonged to her grandmother and a silver etched photo-frame. It was beautiful in its simplicity. It had been a gift, a secret extra gift on her birthday which had been sent to her home. As she had pulled away the brown paper packaging, her face had split into a wide smile. Within the simple silver frame was a photograph, showing her and Virgil, heads pressed together, grinning wildly, the silver of steam from hot coffee drifting into the shot. They had snapped this picture on their way home from a pretentious art gallery opening. Penelope had been obliged to go; it was a former school friend who had invited her; but felt having Virgil for company would make the night much more bearable.

It had. They had overindulged in the free champagne and left early for fear of showing themselves up, walking through the rain-soaked streets of New York until they found a late night coffee shop to sober up in.

Virgil took a picture to prove that Lady Penelope could be anything but a lady at certain times. Their flirtatious joking had taken them back to the desire both had felt in the aftermath of her rescue from the Anderblad Tunnel.

She lifted the picture, gently stroking the side of Virgil's cheek shakily with her pinkie finger. Placing it back down, she made her way towards the kitchen, making herself a cup of tea and checking the clock which showed 'Tracy Island time'. It was mid-afternoon and with her cup in hand, Penny set herself in front of her computer and connected to Jeff in his study.

"Penny, hi," Jeff said as he established the connection. He smiled in almost amusement at her sleep mussed hair and fluffy pink pyjamas. Her face was pale, washed out and Jeff saw the impact that Scott and Virgil's disappearance was having on her. It mirrored his own tense, but exhausted features.

"I couldn't sleep," she explained.

"I know how that feels," he sympathised. Penelope cupped her hands around the pink mug and took a delicate sip of the fragrant tea. Jeff's face flickered across her laptop screen as he reached for his beverage of choice.

"How are the boys holding up?" she asked him softly. Jeff shrugged and sighed, rubbing his hands across his face, a trait Scott had picked up in the early days of International Rescue.

"They're putting a brave face on it...well, aren't we all? But I made the mistake of sending them on a rescue, an earthquake. It was a disaster. We lost those we were meant to save, almost lost Gordon as well…and it has torn Alan up. I put too much pressure on him…"

"No…they are so worried about Scott and Virgil, but they are honourable and want to continue saving lives. It was always going to be a difficult rescue, even if it had been Scott and Virgil leading it."

"You know what Alan said? 'Scott would have known what to do'…and he's absolutely right. I don't know what I was thinking trying to carry on as normal…" Jeff trailed off, his mind returned to the conversation he'd had with Brains following that statement.

"We're trying to keep positive Penny," Jeff continued after a moment. Penelope smiled sympathetically. She had spoken with John earlier that week, checking in on his scouring of almost all networks which covered the South East of Asia, desperately trying to track any mention of his brothers, of International Rescue and of the terrorist attacks which had set this nightmare in motion. He'd looked like his father; pale, exhausted, tense...most of all devastated at his lack of information and terrified at what fate his brothers had faced.

"Now...why don't you tell me what the Head of Intelligence told you about this group's methods..." Jeff said slowly, returning Penelope's attention back to her present conversation. She felt her cheeks flush and lowered her head shamefully.

"I'm sorry Jeff...I didn't want to make things any worse...I thought it might make things seem...well, hopeless I suppose."

"I'd rather know the whole story," Jeff replied.

"I thought you might give up...I almost did when I heard him talk about the executions…God, Jeff I don't know what I'd do if they…" She trailed off as Jeff nodded understandingly, cutting short a rare show of panic from Penelope.

"John uncovered some reports...God knows how he managed to access their network," Jeff explained.

"You probably would rather not know," Penelope smiled, knowing that Parker and John both shared a talent, for want of a better word, for accessing information restricted to the majority.

"I just hated to think of that happening to them Jeff...it horrified me to think of..."

Penny touched her lips, her eyes flickering uncertainly. She remembered Mr. Anderson of the CIA giving horrifically detailed descriptions of what previous hostages had suffered. All she could picture was Virgil, his broken body being discarded in the depths of that rainforest, never to be found…

"It's called hope Penny," Jeff said softly, his warm voice reminding her so much of Virgil's whispered words of encouragement in the Anderblad Tunnel.

"They have each other...they wouldn't ever give up on one another...we'll find them."

"Yes, yes you're right...I'm sorry," she smiled.

"We'll find Virgil," Jeff added. Penny met his knowing gaze, the understanding clear in his grey eyes.

"Both of them Jeff."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

As Scott slept, Virgil watched him. His hand still held Scott's, a bond that he refused to break until he knew Scott was well again. The only light came from the dotting of stars above him. John would love to see the sky so clearly...it was quite beautiful. The sounds of the jungle provided a constant accompaniment to the scene before his eyes, the twittering of the bats, the chirping of the frogs, the gentle hum of crickets, and the sounds of the trees groaning and shifting.

It wasn't quite Bach, but it would do.

With no one to see him, save a few bats and fireflies, Virgil let the first of his tears fall.


	10. Acceptance

_Usual disclaimers apply. Warnings for descriptions of violence and strong language. Thanks again to all readers and reviewers. Your feedback is much appreciated!_

_Week 4..._

There was a slight peacefulness that Scott felt, sitting with Virgil in their prison. Virgil didn't say much, continuously checking Scott's temperature and feeding him the bitter medicine whenever he was presented with it. He'd shut off the reality of the current situation, having caved to Belah's offer and told him about his own experience in building some of the machinery International Rescue used.

The tortures had continued. More physical than previous, now that Scott seemed to be on the mend. Manap was no longer required, Belah inflicted each beating with pleasure. Manap watched silently from the doorway. Scott had weakly examined the bruising across Virgil's chest, swollen eyelid and scar across his eyebrow, bloody fingers where Belah had taken sick pleasure in breaking three of his fingers.

Virgil shook uncontrollably as he tore a strip from his uniform and bandaged them as best as he could with Scott giving soft words of comfort, knowing that the tearful eyes of his brother were more from the agony of not knowing how this injury might affect him in his favourite pastime.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

The coffee mug in front of Ethan was topped up by Kiri as he sat watching a storm moving towards them, thunder rumbles distant and the flashes of lightning highlighting the outline of thick cloud in bright silver for seconds at a time. He'd picked at the rice balls that he'd been served hours before, but was unable to eat much. It had been two days since Jack had disappeared into the forest. He'd spoken to Guntur, who explained that Jack had left not that long after Kiri and Ethan.

Somewhere between Guntur's home and Kiri's café, Jack had got lost.

Ethan remembered Guntur's stories of lost men from the village with a shudder.

"You are worried for Jack?" Kiri asked, taking a chair next to him and filling his own cup of coffee. Ethan glanced at the elderly man next to him and nodded.

"We would never bail out on each other. If he's gone, it wasn't his choice…" Ethan swallowed a mouthful of the scalding coffee, but the barely felt the sting in his throat.

"Guntur told us about his missing brother and the other missing men from the village. Am I meant to believe this demon has taken Jack now?" Ethan turned away, scoffing at the local stories that seemed to be the only explanation for his friend's disappearance.

"Ah," Kiri sighed, looking out into the darkness surrounding them, broken only by a flickering light from the handful of homes that clustered together to form the small village.

"There are many things out there in the forest that we don't understand," Kiri continued. "Great powers which can help and heal, but powers that can hurt…" Ethan picked at one of the remaining rice balls distractedly. Kiri placed a hand on his shoulder, dragging his attention back to him.

"You don't believe this?" Kiri asked him. Ethan shrugged.

"It's just…it all sounds a bit, well…" Kiri didn't seem offended.

"You have your beliefs Ethan? You have religion?"

"Well, yes, I suppose…"

"This is ours." Kiri let his hand drop from Ethan's shoulder. Ethan followed Kiri's gaze into the darkness, but could see nothing more than the outline of the tallest trees against the indigo blue of the night sky.

"What do you see out there Kiri?"

"Evil."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tactics changed in the camp when Belah realised there was only so much information Virgil was willing to give. And now that his brother was recovering, the information had dried up.

Belah had taken them both to the hut, hands bound behind them and a large branch brandished, battered against one of the structural poles for effect. Both tried hard not to flinch.

"You fly Thunderbird Two yes?" Belah turned to Virgil, eyes glinting in the fading afternoon sunlight. Virgil remained silent, eyes fixed on the twisted bamboo of the wall.

"I asked you a question." Scott watched his brother's determined grimace, his eyes flickering nervously as Belah stepped in front of him.

"Virgil..." Scott spoke and immediately regretted it when Belah brought the branch down across Virgil's back. Virgil howled in pain, fresh bruising upon bruises that had built up over the two weeks of torment.

"You do not speak unless I tell you to!" Belah ordered. Scott glowered at his captor, but didn't utter a word, biting his tongue as Belah pulled Virgil into a sitting position by his hair.

"You." Belah's attention was now on Scott. Scott met his eyes without flinching, his jaw set.

"Thunderbird One is your craft?" Scott ignored the question, trying instead to focus on watching Virgil, keeping silent for his sake. Belah sneered and without a second thought, slammed the branch across Virgil's chest. Virgil collapsed back, his scream of agony horrifying Scott as he remembered looking at the bruising across Virgil's chest.

"You answer, or I will do it again."

Scott looked helplessly at the painful tears escaping from Virgil's eyelids, squeezed shut. His chest was heaving with sharp, rapid breathing, but he managed to meet Scott's eyes and shake his head. He would take this in order to protect the rest of their family.

"Virgil here claims he was part of the design team," Belah continued, swinging his weapon back and forth casually before prodding at Virgil's curled up form.

"He is that good?" Scott looked towards Virgil, who looked to be bracing himself for the next attack. Scott's mouth was dry, his tongue stuck to the top of his mouth as Belah smiled thoughtfully, before once again slamming the weapon across Virgil's body. Scott squeezed his eyes shut, his own moan echoing Virgil's muted sobs of agony.

"Answer!" Belah demanded.

"He wouldn't ever tell you," Virgil managed to croak. "We'd die before telling you anything..." Belah threw his battered stick to the side and crouched down to look Virgil in the eye.

"Then you will die Virgil Tracy."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Within another hut at the edge of the clearing, Jack drifted between dreams. He thought he could hear yells of pain, but they seemed so blurry.

It was so much easier just to close his eyes and let his mind be carried off into unconsciousness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They had been left alone for a whole day. The camp seemed full of activity, but none of it settled around the two International Rescue captives. Scott watched them, fixing at steely gaze on Belah Gaat, who seemed almost uninterested in them.

Virgil scratched absentmindedly at his bearded chin, feeling the lump of a fresh mosquito bite. Even this movement caused a small grunt of pain. His whole body ached, he couldn't begin to describe what his injuries were.

"What do you think is going on here?" Scott asked him, gesturing weakly towards the group of guards talking.

"Some other torture technique I'm sure...God knows Belah wants us to have the whole experience..."

"Listen to you still managing to joke about this," Scott almost managed to grin, but it fell short when Virgil turned to look at him, his eyes lacking any kind of spark of amusement. Lacking any kind of spark really. Scott swallowed dryly and turned back to watch the activity.

"Well, looks like it's time for some attention..." Virgil sighed, shifting back as he saw Belah glancing towards them and making his way towards their prison, striding confidently with two large guards flanking him on either side.

"Take him," Belah pointed to Scott, who was instantly seized by the two guards. Virgil grabbed for them, prepared to protect his brother at all cost, but he was easily restrained by a stunning blow into his stomach and thrown back into the prison, slamming back against the wall.

Scott fought back, as Virgil knew he would, but he was weakened by his illness and the conditions they had been suffering in the last weeks. Virgil cried out weakly as Scott was floored by a solid punch, blood spattering the muddy ground in front of him.

Virgil clung to the wooden bars, hauling himself to his feet, blinded momentarily by the pain of open wounds grazing against his tattered uniform, bones grinding together. His protests went unheard as Scott was dragged unceremoniously into the hut.

"Don't hurt him, please..." Virgil begged desperately. "I'll tell you anything...whatever you want to know..." Belah moved to stand in front of Virgil, remaining indifferent to his pleading.

"You know, Scott never begged for your life like this when you were being tortured..." Virgil closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the bars, trying to ignore Belah's words echoing inside his head.

"He didn't know..." he said softly opening his eyes as Belah stepped back from him.

"It is too late now. I have already gained information from you which has been most helpful." He patted Virgil's cheek mockingly before reaching into his jacket, pulling out a solid dark pistol.

"No..." Virgil shook his head, his hands reaching out to snatch at the weapon, a futile attempt to save his brother. Belah smiled thoughtfully, before turning to Virgil.

"Tell me something useful then..." Belah said, stepping into the cell. He pushed Virgil back, smirking as he tumbled to the ground, hissing in pain. Belah stood directly in front of him, but Virgil kept his eyes lowered, trying to control the tremors rippling across his body, the sickening churning in his gut every time he heard a strained yell from Scott.

"Do you want me to kill your brother?" Belah gripped the front of his hair, pulling his head back and for the first time, Virgil was able to see the glow of menace in his captor's eyes. He remembered Manap's words to him and thought he might vomit with fear.

He let out a soft moan as he saw his eyes gleam intently, although he wasn't sure if it was just a trick of the light. He felt a pressure at the front of his head, soft at first before it became almost painful. Just as it became almost unbearable, his eyesight began to grey at the edges and he slid into a welcome blackness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The blurry footage clearly showed someone, kneeling and surrounding by burley looking soldiers. The jumpy footage was 'exclusive' according to the news anchor, who spoke in almost excitable tones as she described the images flickering across the screen.

"Earlier today, this band of rebel fighters claimed to have killed one of their hostages...they have claimed he is an International Rescue operative. This footage sent contains disturbing images and as a result we are unable to show it in its entirety. However, the scene shown shows the traditional execution set up."

"God...no..." Jeff trailed off as the footage cut out, returning to the news anchor who turned to the camera, offering something of a sympathetic gaze.

"In other news..." Jeff turned the television off, leaning forward in his chair and resting his head in his hands, trying to control the sheer panic rising in him. His sons, the group claiming they were responsible for their deaths...their bodies, abandoned in some Godforsaken part of the world...

But, the video footage didn't clearly show the man...in fact, it hardly showed anything...It could be possible that it was not Scott or Virgil, but some other poor soul...

It broke his heart to do so, but he called John into his office and showed him the footage he had been watching...

"It can't be them," John stated bluntly.

"We need proof that it isn't John...I need proof..."

"Does it look like Scott or Virgil...?" Jeff asked, his fingers touching the screen lightly to zoom in.

"Enhance the image," John said. "It's too dark to tell Dad..." John heard the desperation in his father's voice, but as he asked the image to be improved, he wished he had not spoken. The man kneeling had thick brown hair and was wearing the tale-tale blue of the International Rescue uniform, although discoloured by weeks of dirt and blood. John felt warm tears splashing against his hands, rubbing at his cheeks furiously.

"No..." he heard his father whisper. "No, it can't be..."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The footage was shown over and over again on the television about the grand fireplace in the drawing room of Penelope's mansion. She watched in horror, unable to quite process what she was seeing.

"Our main news again this evening is that one member of International Rescue is reported to have been executed by a small terrorist group based in Malaysia…"

"No…" she wailed. "No!" She had collapsed into one of the chairs as Sir Jeremy had eased a glass of French brandy into her hands as the sickening footage was shown again and again. Parker quickly changed the channel, a shopping channel displaying tacky jewellery for sale for the highest bid replacing the horrific scenes from the jungle.

"Penelope?" Sir Jeremy's voice reached her ears and she blinked tears away as he took a seat next to her.

"It looked like Virgil..." she managed in a trembling whisper.

"No...it can't have been Penny..." Sir Jeremy watched as a woman who had stood against hardened war-criminals, who had felt the terror of a gun put to her head, who had worked undercover in some of the most dangerous dictatorships in the world, placed her head in her hands and sobbed loudly, her whole body trembling.

XXXXXXXXX

As the sun began to set, casting a blood red glow across the forest, a brown haired man wordlessly followed Belah Gaat into the centre of the camp, his eyes were dulled and lifeless, they gazed sightlessly at the surrounding huts and forest. When Belah had woken him from his deep sleep, his mind had been easy to manipulate and control.

"Kneel." The command was followed without protest or hesitation. Belah twisted a smile before lifting the pistol out in front of him.

"The world will know I am not a man to be ignored." His proclamation was finished with the loud crack of a gunshot, an exclamation at the end of his words.

The silence of the forest was broken, animals screeching and whooping in fright and above all of this, the pained scream of a tortured Tracy.


	11. I Help Virgil

_Usual disclaimers apply. Warnings for descriptions of violence and strong language. Thanks to all reading and reviewing. Hope you enjoy this next update..._

Scott lay on the floor of the hut, looking at the sunlight flickering across bare skin, filtering in through gaps in the palm leaf roof. He had been left alone since he and Virgil had been separated the previous day. Scott thought they were being separated as some sort of punishment, a ploy to weaken them.

Instead, Scott had heard the scuffle of footsteps outside of the hut and heard Belah's voice.

"I warned you what would happen…" It had been clearly directed towards Scott.

He'd heard the gun shot, his own scream muffling the triumphant whooping and yelling from Belah's men.

Now Scott felt totally alone.

For a while, he'd tried to convince himself it was all one of Belah's tricks, a sickening torture to break him.

That hope died as soon as Belah had thrown Virgil's tattered, bloody shirt at him. Scott felt his stomach turn as his fingers brushed across the still warm blood. Balling it up in his hands, he brought it to his face. He'd sobbed without shame, until his eyes were swollen and etched painfully with red lines. He'd ignored the taunting comments thrown in his direction, guards spitting on him as he lay lifelessly against the ground.

He hoped that maybe by the power of his own wish for death, he could follow Virgil.

After all, he couldn't ever go home now, not without him.

XXXXXXXX

Kyrano found Jeff, sitting as a solitary figure, a silhouette against the fading sunset. The secluded rock outcrop was one of Jeff's haunts, but only Kyrano knew this. Having given John a tea which he hoped would soothe his tired and overworked mind, he wanted to be his comforting powers to use on his employer. In a rare show of emotion, Jeff sighed deeply and wiped him hand over his eyes wearily, smudging the tears that had been falling since he'd witness the supposed execution of his son. He wasn't sure what to believe, it looked like Virgil, but in his heart he didn't want to believe his son was gone.

"I just want them back," Jeff said after a moment. "I'd give up anything…do anything, just to have them back." Kyrano said nothing as Jeff turned to face him. Four weeks of worry and the strain was beginning to show.

"I don't believe you have lost them," Kyrano said softly, handing Jeff the mug. He accepted it with a small smile.

"What makes you so sure? The video looked…" Jeff trailed off as his voice threatened to break. Kyrano sat on the smooth rock beside Jeff, but said nothing.

"Whatever you know Kyrano...whatever you think you might know, I need you to tell me," Jeff pleaded. Kyrano lowered his eyes momentarily.

"This rebel group...who are they Kyrano?" Jeff persisted.

"They are fronted by a man, Belah Gaat...he is..." Kyrano stopped momentarily. "He is not concerned about the Indonesian occupation. He lost no family during the fighting, he has no permanent ties to the area...he wants power, he wants to cause terror..."

Kyrano raised his eyes to meet Jeff's solemnly. Jeff saw a flicker of almost fear cross Kyrano's face, something he had never witnessed in all of the years of service.

"It is my own home village. There is a tale of a curse...men's minds and souls stolen by a demon. Gleaming eyes which enticed you with stories of how he could help you achieve whatever it is you wanted. He went after men with a desire for revenge, those who had tragically lost family members, or had trouble with village leaders...or those who suffered during the land struggles between Malaysia and Indonesia...battles were fierce, many lives lost...there were so many who wanted revenge. He had built up a small army by this time..." Jeff listened intently.

"Why not you Kyrano?"

"His power over me is different..."

"Why did this Belah Gaat take my sons Kyrano?" Jeff asked him, his voice dropping to almost a whisper.

"They are a means to an end Mr. Tracy. It is International Rescue he really wants, the technology, the equipment and their potential to cause world-wide terror..."

"How do you know this Kyrano...?"

"He is my half-brother."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Alan stuck the empty beer bottle into the sand and leaned back, watching as the sky faded into a deep violet colour. Beside him, Tin Tin snuggled against his side, sighing softly as Alan's arm came around her, his lips resting against her forehead. She felt the warm moisture of his tears against her head and she turned to look at him.

Her hair hung softly around her eyes, watering as she watched Alan wipe his cheeks almost angrily. She placed her hand over his, stilling his movement.

"It is ok to be scared Alan," she whispered. He kept his eyes lowered, another tear dripping into the sand. Tin Tin cupped her hands around his face gently, easing his eyes up to meet hers. She gently placed her lips against his, feeling his lips moving against hers.

She pulled back, looking for Alan's approval. He stared at her before he placed his lips against hers, returning her kiss and pulling her closer, his fingers tangling in her silky black hair.

An attempt to escape the worry and uncertainty, the young couple came together in the sand.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Scott assumed Belah had no more need for him, so was surprised by the arrival of two guards, flanking Belah on either side. He pointed wordlessly to Scott and they both moved forward, hands gripping at the tattered material of his uniform, seizing his arms with bruising force.

"Get your hands off me!" Scott yelled. "I'm not going anywhere. You hear me?" Belah held his hand up to the guards, who dropped him to the floor. Scott kept his moan of pain silent.

"Then your brother will suffer alone," Belah said, turning away from Scott, who had sat up, reaching to out to grab at Belah's trailing arm.

"Where's Virgil?" he asked him, his voice quiet in near disbelief.

"Where you left him…"

"No. No..." Scott shook his head, a harsh laugh escaping from his mouth. "You killed him…you shot him…his shirt, it was bloody and…" Scott trailed off and looked closely at Belah – the self-satisfied smile, the glow of malice flickering in his eyes.

"You didn't kill anyone…" Scott trailed off, realising he'd been played by Belah, he'd fallen into one of tricks and he'd reacted in exactly the way Belah had wanted him to.

"Oh I killed someone…just not Virgil." Scott wasted no time in scrambling to his feet, stumbling and staggering out of the hut, squinting against the sunlight as he emerged into the clearing.

He placed a hand up to shade his eyes, seeking out his brother and finding him, still in the prison, exactly where Belah had said he would be. He was missing his International Rescue shirt, the one Scott still held in his hand. The vest he'd worn below was blood-stained and revealed the horrific bruising that Belah had inflicted the previous day.

Worried it was a trick, Scott edged towards the motionless form cautiously, bile burning the back of his throat as he fought back sobs of worry that this was another of Belah's games.

He collapsed to the mud beside the body, easing it round so he could clearly see the face.

He let out a soft sob when he saw the peaceful features of his brother, a face he knew as well as his own. Trembling fingers felt for a pulse and were rewarded with the gentle throbbing showing Virgil was still very much alive. Scott looked over Virgil, checking his brother's body for signs of further injury and finding none. Scott wiped a tear from his cheek and he gently shook his brother, trying to rouse him from sleep.

"Virg…Virgil…" he persisted, shaking him roughly and letting out a soft moan as Virgil remained unconscious.

"What did you do to him?" he demanded, tearful eyes flaring angrily as he lifted his head to glower accusingly at Belah.

"He sleeps…although quite when he will wake is not known."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Manap watched the two prisoners in their caged prison. Immediately the dark haired one tended to the injuries the one he knew now as Virgil, had sustained. The dark haired man was openly crying as his hands softly touched Virgil's face and his hair, disbelief that he was still alive. He saw the caring gestures between the two men and knew them to be family. Manap had once watched his own brother beaten, battered by government forces fighting a tyrants war. He understood the horror and heartbreak the dark haired man would have suffered thinking his brother was dead. His mind had never seemed clearer than now, suddenly the years he had spent hiding in the jungle with the man they called 'master' or 'sir' turned his stomach. He was not a man of violence, he had no stomach for it. He watched the master ordering some of the other men, asking them to reload weapons, to collect food supplies.

"Fishing Manap." Manap nodded, gathering his spear and vines and calling to two of the youngest members of the group. As Manap lead the way into the forest, he took a different path, beginning the day long trek to the nearest village, to contact with the outside world and to help in ridding their home of this demon that had taken their souls from them and brainwashed them to become a band of violent mercenaries.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

As he slept, Kyrano dreamt.

He could see Scott. Scott was crying.

Beside Scott…a body…thick brown hair and wearing the striking blue International blood covering the body, but as Scott turned it over, his face pale, confusion crossing his features. He had expected to see Virgil.

But it wasn't Virgil.

It looked like him, probably on grainy footage shot from a distance, you might believe it was him.

But it wasn't Virgil.

Instead, Virgil was locked in a deep sleep. Forced on him by Belah.

He was very much still alive.

Kyrano heard the sounds of morning in his dream, reality beginning to blue the dreamy visions he was experiencing.

"Wake up Virgil…" he whispered softly as his own eyes opened and he left the dreams of Scott and Virgil behind.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Virgil woke to a reassuring touch against his temple and murmured words from his older brother that told him he was alive, at least. His head was cushioned against the bloody, tattered remains of his shirt and his brother smiled optimistically at him.

"You were always a heavy sleeper." Virgil managed a small smile, forcing his eyelids to remain open, taking in the glorious sight of Scott, alive and...almost well, by the looks of things.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked him before letting his eyes drift closed again.

"Not as bad as you," Scott answered honestly. He let his hand drop and Virgil opened his eyes again. Scott's smile was strained and Virgil slowly sat up, his eyes drawn to the bruising around his eye, the bloody lip, the finger marks around his neck.

"Are you okay?" he asked him, pushing himself into a sitting position, wincing at the strain on his battered body.

"I'll be fine," Scott assured him as Virgil sat back against the wall, shoulder to shoulder with Scott. Both watched the clouds beginning to build, deep black, grey and purple, with the promise of a heavy thunderstorm for the evening. Virgil saw Belah looking towards them, the same smug smirk on his face as though he achieved something over them. He'd made them weak, he'd made them beg, he'd made them hurt more than they ever thought possible. Virgil closed his eyes momentarily, trying to summon the strength and resilience that had got him through three weeks of this hell, but found his spirit lacking.

"Scott..." he whispered in a soft confession. "I'm sorry...I can't do this anymore..." He felt Scott shift beside him, coughing weakly as he sat up.

"Virgil..." he reached out, taking Virgil's chin between his thumb and forefinger and easing his head round to look at him. Scott's face echoed the same desperation and Virgil unexpectedly felt his eyes fill.

"Hey..." He pulled Virgil's head against his shoulder, chewing on his cheek to prevent his own sadness leaking out. He felt Virgil's ragged breaths, hot against his skin as he ran his fingers through matted curls, placing a gentle kiss against the side of his head.

"Sssshhh..." Scott soothed gently. "Virgil, I want you to know that no matter what happens..." Virgil shook his head against Scott's shoulder.

"No...no Scott don't do this now..." he whispered fiercely, lifting his head to look Scott in the eye. It wasn't in Scott's nature to speak fatal final words when there was still a glimmer, all be it very tiny, of hope.

"Remember what you said when this all started...you give up now, you might as well be dead..." Scott managed a small smile and a sigh half between a broken sob and a laugh.

"You're right Virgil..."

"So, what do we do?" Scott looked towards the dense thick forest surrounding them, trees swaying in the warm breeze. He turned to look at Virgil with a smile.

"We try to get out of here again."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ethan offered the large man before him a beer, which he accepted silently. He had stumbled into the village, finding Kiri's café and had introduced himself as Manap. Kiri had acted as a translator, the words of the tribesman chilling him.

"He comes from the demon's camp…he has escaped his hold…" Kiri began. Ethan sat down opposite the two men, listening as Kiri weaved stories of demons, a man possessed and the tortures inflicted on his two captives. Manap had lowered his head shamefully as he admitted being responsible for some of the tortures. As he spoke those words, he turned to Kiri, his eyes widening and his voice dropping, words spoken quickly.

"He says...it was not his actions," Kiri said. "He says he would not have known about these tortures or how to do them...he doesn't think he could have done them. He didn't have control over his actions..."

"Who the hell is this demon Kiri? Ask him?" Ethan asked. "This isn't the time for ghost stories! Jack's missing, the two International Rescue guys are missing and this man says he can control people's actions..."

"Their minds," Kiri corrected him. Ethan felt a real fear bubbling in his stomach. This man, Manap, spoke of experiencing the effects of this demon that Guntur and Kiri had spoken about. He and Jack had passed off the stories as superstition, tales passed down through generations which hid a more reasonable explanation for the disappearance of men from the village. He turned away, but Manap reached out, taking his wrist between strong fingers.

"I help Virgil..." he said in broken English. Confusion crossed Ethan's face.

"Who is Virgil?" he asked, but Manap seemed not to understand. Kiri repeated the question in Manap's dialect and he responded quickly.

"Manap says Virgil was one of the men taken from the village…one of the men wearing blue…"

"International Rescue?" he asked and Kiri nodded solemnly.

"They are alive?"

"Both of them…" Kiri replied. Ethan smiled his thanks to Manap before turning back to Kiri.

"Kiri, I need to use your telephone."


	12. Almost the End

_Well, this is the end of part 1 of this story. As I've worked on it, I've started thinking about where I could take it from here. So there will be another part to follow this one. Thanks again to everyone that has taken the time to read this story and review it. Once again, usual disclaimers apply and there are descriptions of violence and strong language. _

"And who has given you this information Ethan…"

"Wonderful news."

"Yes, well, we had an execution video release to the press here and it caused sheer panic amongst us…"

"Thank you Ethan."

Penelope listed to the one sided conversation Sir Jeremy was having with Ethan, still based in the tiny village. It was the first they had heard from him since their arrival. They had not been exaggerating when the spoke of the difficulty in communicating with the outside world from the village. She glanced up at Sir Jeremy expectantly as Sir Jeremy disconnected the call.

"Penelope, you might want to sit down…"

XXXXXXXXXXX

At first John wasn't entirely sure the words he heard spoken quickly to his father had been a dream, imagined words to give him hope, but when the words were repeated, a third and a fourth time, he knew that finally, someone had found his brothers. The family gathered in Jeff's study, huddled in the small space to listen to the news that had come from the village.

"The information has come from a local man who claims the leader of this group has brainwashed the males who suffered during the government's land disputes and has used them to form this terrorist group..." Sir Jeremy's voice over the speaker carried a tone of almost amusement. Alan reached for Tin Tin's hand, an apology for his scorn when she spoke of Kyrano's stories.

"Location of the camp looks to be in the area close to the Malaysian and Indonesian border...very little coverage of this area," Sir Jeremy continued.

"We can arrange to have a satellite concentrate on this area," Jeff replied, nodding towards John as he lifted his tablet PC onto his lap, keying in the information Sir Jeremy had given them.

"Do you wish troop support?" Sir Jeremy asked. "We're trying to hold off the American's just now…I have some very highly trained troops waiting for this order. Earned their stripes in North Korea…"

"Like Scott…"John said softly as he took remote control of Thunderbird Five's satellite via his computer, keying in the location of the village he had previously found. Rather than before, where he might have scanned the endless carpet of trees stretching out in all directions from the village, he used the information Sir Jeremy's agents had gained from the man from the rebel tribe.

"Father!" John's eyes suddenly lit up as he brought the image he was studying closely on his laptop screen onto the projected screen in Jeff's office.

"This looks like light..." John said, circling the area he had spotted with his finger. There was a clearing, he'd noticed it before, but there had never been any sign of life. He assumed it must have been abandoned, but the previous night, someone had carelessly, or he was beginning to suspect, purposefully, left the fire burning. The satellite wasn't able to show much but a small glow of light. It was enough to rouse John's suspicions.

"Where is this?" Jeff asked him, putting his glasses on and studying the area John had marked.

"It's on the border between Indonesia and Malaysia. It's in the Cloud Forest area...little is known about the area Father, it's a kind of no-man's land if you like. These terrorists knew that and have made good use of the area for hiding in. No-one patrols this area and until now, it's not been somewhere that required any sort of surveillance."

"Well, let's go. Get in Thunderbird One and we could be there in hours, Dad..." Alan, seizing on the information about his brothers whereabouts like a terrier, determined for action, adopting the 'Scott Tracy' mode of decisive action. He had always admired his oldest brother and with him missing at the helm of rescues, had found a new sense of respect for Scott's resilience despite a terrifying responsibility to those who needed rescue.

"We can't just barge on in there Alan," Jeff said. "We don't know how armed this group are...we don't want any of us in unnecessary danger. I won't risk anyone. I can't risk anyone."

"My men are preparing as we speak Jeff," Sir Jeremy told him, his clipped English accent cutting through their worried conversation. "They're going to get Scott and Virgil out of there."

XXXXXXXXXX

The rain had started, earlier than usual. Very quickly the muddy pitch outside of the café was a mud bath, a muddy stream beginning to flow down towards the river at the edge of the village. The rain didn't seem to bother the villagers, they were caught up in the excitement of having one of their missing returned to them.

Ethan watched Guntur and Manap embrace, their hair and bodies drenched by the relentless downpour, words spoken quickly between the two. Years of separation had given them much to talk about. Their smiles told of the joy at being reunited. Manap had not told Guntur about what happened in the camp, about his experiences under the 'demon' that had control over them. It could wait until the celebrations had passed.

Although Ethan was pleased to see that Guntur had found Manap, the International Rescue members were in the midst of being rescued, it seemed everyone had forgotten about Jack. Sir Jeremy had cut short their conversation before Ethan could tell him of Jack's disappearance. He smiled wearily as the two brothers made their way towards him, taking shelter under the awning in front of the café.

"You found your brother," Ethan said.

"No, he found us," Guntur replied. Ethan managed a smile before he addressed Manap, through Guntur, allowing him to translate his words for his brother.

"I spoke to my boss back in London. He says you've saved the lives of the International Rescue members." Ethan waited until Manap responded, nodding gravely and speaking in a low voice.

"Manap tells me they were so brave…but they have suffered badly at the hands of the demon," Guntur said. He placed a hand on Ethan's chest and smiled sadly.

"But you want to know about Jack though, don't you?" Ethan half smiled as Manap spoke in solemn tones to his brother, shaking his head a number of times. Ethan didn't need to speak the dialect of the village to know it wasn't good news.

"My boss told me there was an execution…they claimed it was one of the International Rescue guys…" Ethan said, his voice trembling.

"So if they are both still alive…they killed someone else…but who…" Ethan trailed off.

"Jack." He answered the question in a shaky voice, feeling his chest constrict suddenly with the horrible realisation that his best friend was gone, murdered by a demon he didn't even believe in.

"He was brave," Guntur said. "He wanted to help us more than anything…but the evil he was trying to save us from, was what took him. He will always be remembered as a good man." Ethan turned to him, nodding as he fought to hold back tears.

"What about the International Rescue guys?" Ethan asked, clearing his throat and trying to suppress his emotions until he could grieve on his own.

"Is help on the way for them?" Guntur asked him.

"Yes, there are specialist troops heading into the jungle according to my boss…" Ethan said, stopping as Manap turned to Guntur, his eyes bright against his tanned skin. Guntur nodded, placing a reassuring hand on Manap's shoulder.

"Manap says the men do not have long. They must hurry," Guntur said.

XXXXXXXXXX

The news of Scott and Virgil being alive was not a surprise to Kyrano. He listened to Sir Jeremy and Jeff discussing the rescue procedure, using military words and terms that were foreign to him. He understood that force would be used in order to secure the safety of Belah's prisoners. However, the thought of innocent men stolen from a village being hunted down by military forces left a bad taste in Kyrano's mouth. The men who stood guard over Scott and Virgil, who had tortured them, who had threatened them were not the evil in this situation. Belah controlled everyone he'd recruited, like chess pieces he'd manoeuvred them into place, gave them the words to taunt the brothers with, given them the knowledge of how to torture them.

They would be the ones to take the blame and punishment, not Belah.

Throughout the time Scott and Virgil had been missing, Belah had chosen when to share his visions with Kyrano. However, Kyrano shared these powers with his half-brother, he could summon the visions.

Kyrano lit the candles that stood on either side of the small statue. He knew his half-brother would have exactly the same one wherever he was. Kneeling before it, Kyrano inhaled, filling his lungs with the stinging scent of the incense.

"Show me," he commanded. "Show them to me..."

Kyrano squeezed his hands into tight fists, pushing the feeling of panic from him, determined to find some sense, some image of the two brothers.

But there was nothing. Kyrano's eyes suddenly opened, returned suddenly and unexpectedly to reality and the terrifying feeling that something had gone horribly wrong.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Twenty heavily armed troops hid on the outskirts of the clearing, hardly daring to breathe as they looked for any movement from the camp. The directions given to them from the tribesman Manap and followed up by Sir Jeremy at MI6, had allowed them to drop from a helicopter to a location a few hours from the camp. They kept their distance at first, not wanting to alert the rebel group to their presence.

Staff Sergeant Martin turned to look at the faces on either side of him, the whites of their eyes standing out from the greens, browns and blacks smeared across their faces which made them almost invisible amongst the dense forest. He softly cleared his throat.

"Anything on the infra-red Smith?"

"Nothing Sir."

There was a pensive silence, the highly trained men pondering over the next course of action. Staff Sergeant Martin felt that they had waited long enough. He suspected the camp had been abandoned. He could only hope that they were not about to stumble across two bodies in the camp.

"Approach with extreme caution." The instruction was given and the twenty men slowly picked their way through the heavy vegetation, guns held upwards, prepared for any confrontation.

They needed have bothered as the camp was a ghost town. Staff Sergeant Martin was momentarily relieved. Smith, the young officer, lowered his rifle, looking around at the abandoned huts.

"Where is everyone?" he asked, his eyes drawn towards a make-shift prison built up against a mud hut. Inside, trampled and discarded, was a bright blue shirt. He stepped to the side to let his commanding officer see inside. Staff Sergeant Martin lifted the shirt, his eyes passing over the crusted brown blood that seemed to cover most of it. He threw it back down, his eyes remaining emotionless as he looked at the display of homemade torture equipment. He'd seen this too many times before.

"Someone was here. And recently…" Staff Sergeant Martin said, slapping the back of his neck as a mosquito landed there. Smith watched him as he stepped back into the clearing, looking around at the solid mass of rainforest vegetation around them.

"But where are they now…?"

XXXXXXXXXXX

It was only moments after their second escape that Virgil realised it was not one of their best ideas. Both brothers had suffered illness and injury, their bodies weaker. Their dash through the forest was more of a stagger as they held on to each other, both believing to be holding the other up.

As more and more trees appeared at each turn they took, Virgil also realised that the young guards knew this forest better than anyone. Much better than they did and with their slow progress, it was only going to be a matter of time before they were captured.

There was a sudden bang, echoing between the trees and in front of him, Scott stumbled, his body jerking suddenly.

"Scott?" Virgil asked, trying to pull him to his feet. Scott's free hand moved to his chest and Virgil's eyes widened as she saw a dark blood stain rapidly spreading over his creased vest.

"Scott…oh God, no…" he whispered, helping Scott to the ground, his hand weakly pressed over his chest. His fingers, slick with blood curled around Virgil's wrist. Virgil's eyes widened in shock as he watched the scarlet liquid trickling down his own arm.

"Run," Scott whispered, his voice trembling in shock. Virgil shook his head, kneeling beside him and squeezing his hand reassuringly.

"No," he said, the firmness of his voice betraying the trembling hands that clutched Scott's.

"Run Virgil…go…" Scott pleaded with him, but he was rudely interrupted.

Another bang and Scott was hit again…

Virgil yelled out in horror, Scott's blood spattering across his own clothes. Scott's body fell into him and he struggled to keep him upright, instead letting him lie back, a soft moan escaping from his lips as he closed his eyes wearily.

"No…hang on Scott…please…" Virgil begged him. Opening his eyes sluggishly, Scott smiled softly, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

"Scott…" Virgil pulled his brother towards him, cradling his body as best as he could. He heard the sound of the guards approaching and grabbed hold of Scott's hand. His soft blue eyes took a moment to focus on his face and he reached up, to stroke his cheek with a shaky hand. Virgil's voice broke in his throat as he realized Scott fully expected this to be their last moments together.

He was cruelly reminded of the first day they had arrived in the village, leaving Paris and Penelope to venture into the depths of the forest. Things had seemed almost upbeat until the second bomb blast; there had been laughing and talking between all of the brothers, Virgil ribbing Gordon about looking after Thunderbird 2, Scott ribbing John about being out of practice on rescues. They had no idea what had lay ahead of them after that day.

Perhaps if he had known, he might have said something nicer to Gordon, he might have complimented his Grandma's chocolate cake, he might have spent time chatting with his father…he might have told Penelope he was falling in love with her…

It was a moment interrupted by the arrival of the guards, circling the two brothers. Young men, barely out of their teens, holding oversized guns that belonged to soldiers. They raised them, pointing the barrels in their direction, calmly waiting for the next instruction.

Virgil heard the footsteps behind him and he pressed his lips together, tasting the salty sweat that had gathered there. He felt Scott's fingers holding his hand a little tighter, his eyes opening momentarily to exchange almost a look of relief that at least the ordeal would be over and above everything else, they were together.

Virgil quickly blinked away the moisture that had gathered at the corners of his eyes, instead looking up at the guards in front of him, meeting Belah's eyes without any hesitation and managing a small smile of satisfaction.

He didn't want to go sobbing and begging for his life and Scott's.

Belah Gaat cleared his throat.

Virgil held Scott closer.


	13. Dreams and Realities

_So we left Scott and Virgil in a tense stand-off in the jungle... Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first part of this story. I hope you enjoy the next one._

XXXXX

"_Gunshots have been fired. I repeat, gunshots have been fired."_

"_Find and isolate the threat."_

"_Understood."_

"_Call for a medic, we've got injuries to both hostages."_

"_What is the extent of the injuries Captain?"_

"_Gunshot wounds, they look like they've had a tough time of it...both unconscious at the moment...God..."_

"_Is that medic here yet? These guys won't last much longer with medical help!"_

"_On route Sir..."_

"_Sergeant...they're International Rescue, look the uniforms..."_

"_I don't care who they are, get them out of here now."_

"_Helicopter on stand-by for evac Captain."_

"_Understood."_

XXXXX

His stomach hadn't stopped churning since the beginning of the assault on the forest camp and as the contact between the ground troops and their command was severed, John felt his stomach jolt violently. His face paled, a cold sweet forming on his forehead as he caught his father's terrified gaze.

"We've lost the connection..." John whispered, his fingers scuttling across the keyboard, windows opening and closing across the screen.

"John...tell me what's going on..." Jeff said, his voice trembling uncontrollably and John felt another wave of nausea wash over him at his father's unprecedented loss of control.

"I can't Dad...it's gone..."John said weakly, glancing as his father, who waited expectantly.

"What does this loss of communication tell us John?" he asked quietly. John shifted in his chair uncomfortably, his eyes darting across the computer screen.

"The command control lost contact with the ground troops...it could be a malfunction in equipment, interference from a number of sources..." John trailed off, rubbing crystalline tears from his cheeks angrily.

"I'm sorry Dad…" John's voice cracked in his throat and Jeff moved towards him, pulling him into a gentle embrace, John pressing his face into his father's stomach in an attempt to muffle the sudden explosion of emotion, weeks of stress and strain finally erupting.

"Shhhh," Jeff soothed softly. "It's not your fault John."

"What if they're…what happens if…" John struggled to speak, but Jeff shook his head, his fingers running through John's hair reassuringly.

"They've made it this far. I'm sure they can hold on a little longer."

XXXXX

"_Virgil!" Scott stood at the edge of the porch, the hanging chair swaying softly in the late afternoon breeze. The sun was beginning to set and he held his hand up to his eyes, squinting against the glare to spot his younger brother running through the corn field beside the old farmhouse. _

_Brown curls bounced in time with his run, obscuring his eyes as he turned to look at Scott._

"_Come on Scott!" His voice floated across the wheat stalks towards him followed by a short burst of laughter as he turned and began running, further and further from where Scott stood._

"_Virgil, come back!" Scott shouted after him, but his words had no effect on his brother. Scott turned back towards the swinging chair on the porch, his father now sitting there, rocking himself back and forth. He smiled softly, the lines around his eyes deepening._

"_Come on inside now Scott," his father said softly. _

"_But what about Virgil?" Scott asked, turning back to look for Virgil, catching sight of him disappearing into the distance._

"_He'll be alright Scott." Scott hesitated as he finally lost sight of Virgil. His chest seemed to tighten and he turned to his father, unsure of what exactly was happening. Why was his father so keen he came inside? Why did he not seem bothered about Virgil disappearing into the fields beside their house?_

_His father reached out and took his hand and Scott finally stepped away from the porch and into the house._

XXXXX

A solemn silence descended over the troops as two stretchers were hoisted into the helicopter. Blood stained clothing was cut away revealing torn skin and muscle. The medics took charge, trying to bandage the numerous wounds and stem the bleeding, desperately trying to give the two men some change of survival.

"We've got two wounds…looks like their clean through…" Scott could feel his chest heaving with the incredible effort of trying to breathe. He was cold, his skin clammy and his body trembling.

Blurred shadows above him spoke, but he was unable to process their words, his vision fading in and out. He blearily watched a silver needle discharge a cool liquid into his arm, he felt it travelling through his veins.

"Stay with me," he heard someone say, sharp tones like an order and Scott felt himself pulled unwillingly back into a very painful reality. He turned his head slightly to the side when he caught a glimpse of another group of people huddled over a bloody body beside him. Swabs and cloths stained scarlet were discarded for new ones, which seemed to discolour in a matter of seconds.

"We need a transfusion," someone spoke quickly. "He's not going to make it to the hospital at this rate…" Scott let out a soft moan as the man who had spoken moved to the side and revealed the damaged body belonged to Virgil, his face pale like death, his blood seeping from too many wounds, life draining from him. He tried to call out to him, but he couldn't seem to link the thoughts to the action. His mouth opened, but a hitched breath was all that he could produce.

"What did you say?" the ordering voice asked him, pulling him back to concentrate on the figures in front of him. His startled bright blue eyes flickered uncertainly before between trembling, bloody lips, he uttered one word.

"Virgil..."

XXXXX

With no further information available from the troops rescuing Scott and Virgil, Jeff took a few moments alone on the balcony overlooking the pool and the beach beyond. He'd tried to light a cigar, something to distract him for a few minutes, but he found his hands were shaking too much to hold the flame to the tip for long enough.

It was probably for the best as Scott and Virgil had endured enough of his nagging about their own smoking habits that they'd given up, Virgil after much persuasion. Being a hypocrite wasn't Jeff's style.

Instead he'd chosen to reflect on the worst case scenarios from this attempted rescue. Losing two sons. However, he thought, if he lost only one son, how would the other cope? What kind of injuries had they sustained? Were they going to cause discomfort, prevent them being able to continue with International Rescue as before? Would they even want to continue with International Rescue?

He caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced to the side, John smiling apologetically as he joined him on the balcony. His eyes were still red from his earlier tears, but he'd adopted a steely look, remaining as positive as possible until they knew what had happened.

"Dad, Sir Jeremy's called in," he said softly, placing a hand on his father's arm.

"Right, I'll be there in a moment." John nodded, making his way back to the study. Jeff gripped the wrought iron railing of the balcony, the blood draining from his knuckles as he closed his eyes, letting his breathing steady, a technique Kyrano had showed him many years before, during International Rescue's first rescue, waiting for Scott to confirm Virgil was ok after his rescue car had spun out of control and crashed at the side of the runway.

He knew that no matter what the news was, he needed to hear it. As much as he wanted to stay on the balcony and ignore the possibility that he'd lost two sons in the rainforest.

Reluctantly, Jeff returned to his study. Sitting in his chair, he noticed Brains had joined them to hear the news. The scientist looked terrified, but John gave him a small trembling smile, an attempt to reassure him that his presence was welcome.

"Jeff," Sir Jeremy's voice was strained as he joined their gathering.

"Are they alive?" Jeff asked him immediately.

"Yes…" Sir Jeremy began, but trailed off, leaving an uncomfortable silence. Jeff cleared his throat before asking the question he was dreading.

"What did they say about their condition?" Sir Jeremy looked away for a moment, his shoulders slumping as he shook his head.

"What did they say?" Jeff asked again, his voice becoming harder, louder to cover the inevitable trembling.

"The troops that pulled them out of there said the bodies were nothing more than a bloody mess, Jeff. They'd been shot…it was too difficult to tell how many times…" John heard Brains' audible moan and he felt his own head spin, panic freezing his thoughts momentarily.

"Scott was awake when they took them on board the helicopter. However, he didn't seem to be fully aware of his surroundings. Virgil was unconscious and losing a lot of blood…" Sir Jeremy's clipped tones hid his own worry at hearing of the condition of the two Tracy brothers.

"Are they going to make it?" Jeff's face paled, he looked at a loss, his mind not quite comprehending the seriousness of the injuries, perhaps unwilling to acknowledge the seriousness.

"I'm not going to lie Jeff…at the moment, it's too early to say."

"Right, well, where are they taking them?" Jeff said quickly, watching John's pale face fall at the horrific description of his brother's injuries. He clutched the sides of the chair with a fierce grip.

"They have been flown to Khoo Teck Puat Hospital. It's not a private hospital, but it has state of the art equipment, the surgeons there are highly trained and the staff understands the threat to their patient's safety…" Sir Jeremy trailed off as Jeff nodded.

"So when can I see them?" he asked.

"Jeff, this is a serious security threat. The identity of these patients is only known to a small number of staff in the hospital. If you were to arrive there, people may make the link between yourself and International Rescue," Sir Jeremy warned.

"Plus, if this Belah Gaat is still about, looking for another opportunity to attack us, your safety would be at risk," John put in. Jeff glanced up at him and automatically John edged back, retreating from any possible confrontation. His father's face showed no anger however. He looked almost lost.

"I have to see them," Jeff stated, keeping his voice level. "They might not make it and you want me to wait here for that news? I need to be there for them…" From his place on the opposite side of the desk, John shook his head, reaching out to touch his father's wrist, but falling short.

"If they don't make it Dad, you'd be too late to get there anyway," John said softly, his soft eyes reflecting the same sadness Jeff felt. Silence filled the study, broken only by a small sniff from John.

From the back of the study, Brains stepped forward.

"P-p-perhaps I can be of some help…"

XXXXX

_Scott returned to the window, looking out across the golden stalks shimmering as they swayed. Soft dandelion fluff floated across the top of them. It was peaceful, tranquil. There was still no sign of Virgil. Perhaps he was enjoying the stillness, the quiet, the tranquillity in the field. _

"_Dad…I think he's got lost out there, maybe I should…" Scott said, calling to his father. _

"_Stay here Scott. Virgil can make his own way back." His father's voice was quieter, coming from the adjoining kitchen. _

"_But…" Scott trailed off as his father stepped into the lounge doorway, a grave expression on his face._

"_But nothing son. I don't want to lose both of you."_

XXXXX

Waiting for news was the worst part. John paced back and forward, trying to focus his mind to concentrate on updating the translation software or Thunderbird Five. He'd sit down for a matter of minutes, type in another few words of the programme he was developing before getting to his feet and beginning to pace again.

Gordon was swimming, quickly losing himself in a world of timing his laps, each length of the pool taking him further and further from the awful reality they were currently facing.

Alan and Tin Tin had left the house. At first, John had expressed almost disgust at the youngest brother's disregard for the condition of his brothers, but realised that he didn't want to hear the worst news. As Alan had turned away from John, the light had caught the silver tear streaks on his face.

John moved towards his father's study, smiling shakily as Jeff looked up. Jeff gestured for him to sit beside him, his eyes glistening in the light from his computer screen as he shifted through photographs which had remained unseen for many years. Christmas time at their Kansas home, the five brothers building a snowman. A photograph of their Grandma and their Grandfather, jaunty paper crowns on their heads as they smiled. Next was Jeff and beside him, John recognised his mother and he smiled softly. Jeff pointed to the bundle she held in her arms.

"That's you." Jeff's voice was barely a whisper. He touched the screen lightly, moving it to the next picture. It showed a glorious sunny afternoon in Kansas, their childhood home surrounded by tall golden stalks. In the middle of the field John could make out two small figures. One, the jet black hair told John it was Scott, was smiling towards the photographer. The other figure was running off into the distance, John assumed it was Virgil.

"Is that Scott and Virgil in the field there?"

"Yes. They were always disappearing in there, hiding from me or your Grandma," Jeff chucked. "I thought they were trouble, then Gordon and Alan came along!" John smiled wistfully.

"I don't think I've seen this photo before."

"No. Your mother took it. A lot of her photos I archived on my computer before we came here. I was just looking through them, trying to distract myself really." John half smiled as Kyrano entered the study, clutching a fresh pot of coffee.

"I thought you might like a refreshment," he said.

"Thanks Kyrano," John said, accepting a cup of strong coffee.

"Has there been any news?" he asked.

"Sir Jeremy said they'd been rushed to a near-by hospital. They're in surgery at the moment. Hopefully we will have an update soon."

XXXXXX

_Scott's hand rested on the door handle of the front door, listening to his grandmother singing as she cooked dinner, the rattling of cutlery and arguments over which side the knife was placed on as Alan and Gordon took charge of setting the table seemed to grow ever distant as Scott tugged the door open._

"_Dad, I'm going to look for Virg," Scott said softly. "Don't wait for us, we'll get dinner later." He stepped out onto the porch, closing his eyes as he felt the warm sun against his face. He skipped down the steps towards the field that Virgil had disappeared into. It seemed to stretch out towards the horizon and beyond, an endless golden carpet. Scott stepped between the stalks, they came up to his waist, the kernels at the top tickling his bare arms as he began to move deeper into the field._

_The front door clattered shut behind him._

XXXXXX

In the emergency room of the hospital, two men lay side by side, their International Rescue uniforms, tattered, muddy and stained a deep scarlet red were discarded on the floor. Their bodies had been battered and abused, usually tanned skin smeared with their blood. Hands worked on them, trying to repair the damage caused by their time in captivity.

Despite the brothers rapidly deteriorating conditions, the surgeons remained calm, speaking in soft tones requesting suction, extra hands to stem some of the bleeding.

Their efforts looked to be in vain.

At almost the same moment, the medical team watched the pulse monitors for each brother become a thin green line.


	14. Meet Dr Hackenbacker

_Thanks for all the reviews. Here's a quick update to say thanks! _

Brains pressed his trembling hands together as the lift arrived on the twelfth floor of the hospital. John's mocked up ID card proclaimed him as Dr. Hackenbacker, which he handed to one of the armed guards on patrol in the corridor. The International Rescue operatives were considered a threat to their security, particularly as they had been the targets of a kidnapping.

"Thanks Doctor." He offered him something of a friendly smile as Brains made his way down the corridor to the critical care ward that had been set aside. As he approached, he could hear the mechanical sounds of machines; heart rates monitored with a small beep.

He paused at the doorway of the Intensive Care Unit.

Brains had seen some horrible injuries sustained by the brothers while out of rescue. He considered himself to be strong, he was not in any way squeamish, he had a way of distancing himself from any emotional attachment to the owners of the injuries he had to treat. Perhaps it was the scientist's logical mind.

But somehow all logic, all the methods he used to keep calm and collected went out of the window as he gazed in near horror at the condition of his two friends.

He gripped the doorframe tightly, trying to control both his swimming mind and his staccato breathing. He swallowed thickly, one, twice before remembering where he was, who he was supposed to be. He wasn't Brains from International Rescue, companion to the two men currently clinging to a thin ledge between life and death. He was Dr. Hackenbacker, a renowned surgeon called in to help the two rescued hostages at the request of Sir Jeremy.

"They're really lucky," one of the armed officers called to him. "The surgeon said they both died on the table...they're not out of it yet I guess."

"N-no..." Brains managed with a small smile before entering the ward. He took a steadying deep breath as his eyes firstly rested on Scott's, the forced movement of his chest, the short stubble of dark hair that remained following the surgery to remove shrapnel from his head. Brains glanced at Virgil, who looked to have taken more of a beating than Scott.

Brains lifted the tablet PC he'd been handed on his arrival and called up their notes. Scott had suffered two bullets, clean through his body, somehow, miraculously missing any vital organs. However, blood loss had been severe and currently, remained stable, but in a serious condition. He was also weakened by malaria, making his recovery more challenging.

Virgil's injuries were frankly horrific. He wasn't sure what tortures he'd endured to cause such damage and he wasn't too fond of the idea of finding out either. Broken bones, bruising, a brain scan which suggested he suffered some sort of head trauma, scars which would take months to heal.

Far too many gunshot wounds.

The motionless figures of the two men made Brains more uncomfortable than any description of the injuries could have. They were ominously still, deathly pale and he turned away from them suddenly.

"Everything okay Doctor?" a pleasant female voice reached his ears. He glanced up, a flurry of auburn hair and a pretty smile passing him as she glanced into the ward.

"Ah...y-y-yes, just a bit out of practice," he admitted after a moment.

"These injuries are severe," the doctor sympathised. "Some of the worst I've seen in a while…" Brains gave her a thankful smile, grateful for her understanding. She pushed her dark hair over one shoulder, dark eyes flickering across his face curiously.

"You're new here?"

"Ah yes, brought in by request," he explained with a sheepish half shrug.

"They'll be well taken care of Dr...Hackenbacker," she finished with a quick glance at his ID. Brains felt his cheeks colour slightly.

"I'm Pavi Buxton," she introduced herself. "If you need anything please just ask."

"Uh…t-t-thanks." She was already half way down the corridor to hear his shy thanks and he looked back at his patients. He stepped into the ward and began the routine check-ups.

XXXXX

Brains looked weary as he and Jeff shared a video conference after his first evening. It had taken all of his will not to fly with Brains to the hospital to be with his sons. But he understood the danger he would be exposing his family and himself to, particularly if their concerns about Belah Gaat were true. He had a feeling Brains was diluting the worst of the injuries, the very fact he had not yet used the camera hidden in his glasses to let Jeff see for himself the condition of his sons told him that.

But even with his friend's kind censorship, Jeff still felt sick to his stomach, his hands trembling uncontrollably and after he and Brains had bit their goodbyes, he succumbed to a loss of control just as he had when his wife had been cruelly taken from him.

XXXXX

Ethan had returned to his apartment in Sibu. Piles of clothes cluttered the hallway, the last reminder of his and Jack's rushed packing to get to the village. There was a scribbled post it note tacked to the fridge door.

"Milk! I need my TEA!" he read with a sad smile. Ethan pulled the bright yellow paper from the door, before placing it down on the worktop gently. He rubbed the back of his neck, letting his breath out in a long sigh, closing his eyes tightly for a moment as he tried to push past the overwhelming sense of grief.

Before leaving the village, Guntur had encouraged him to talk about his loss, tried to offer a sympathetic ear. Ethan had said what he thought Guntur wanted to hear before making a quick exit, back to Sibu, back to his old apartment.

Not in any way back to normality though. Those pleasant carefree days were long gone.

He'd called his sister in London. His only remaining family. She wanted him home and he'd been tempted by her offer. He hadn't seen her in a number of years. His nieces and nephews were fast growing up…

But Jack had gone missing and been taken from this world unexpectedly. The perpetrator of this event was still out there somewhere.

More than anything, Ethan wanted to find him.

He scrolled through his vid-phone contacts, finding Sir Jeremy's office number and calling it.

"Ethan, it's good to hear from you," Sir Jeremy said. "Are you back in Sibu?"

"Yeah, I thought I'd try and sort things here. I'm going to sell up and move on elsewhere." Ethan pulled a cold beer from the fridge, tugging the metal top from it with his teeth.

"And you're coming home?" Sir Jeremy asked. Ethan took a mouthful of the bitter beer, before placing it down on the worktop.

"Ah…well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I want to discuss remaining here for the foreseeable future. I would like to investigate this terrorist threat that exists here."

"This is not a personal vendetta against the people who took Jack, is it?" Ethan cocked a half smile at Sir Jeremy who's lined faced remained calm.

"I thought as much." There was a weighted silence. Sir Jeremy sighed and nodded.

"Well, it is a current threat which I have highlighted to senior ministers within the cabinet…"

"I'm more determined than anyone else there to find this threat, you know that…I'm the perfect person for this job."

"I don't doubt that Ethan, but it's your motives that concern me." Ethan took another drink from the beer bottle, shrugging in acceptance of Sir Jeremy's statement.

"Where will you begin in this search for the terrorist group?" Sir Jeremy asked.

"The first thing I need to help me is access to the International Rescue guys…" He was quickly interrupted by Sir Jeremy.

"That's beyond my authority Ethan, you know that."

"But you've got good contacts?" Ethan asked quickly. Sir Jeremy, to his credit, hid his flinch well. Instead he removed his glasses, wiping underneath his eyes and letting out a sigh.

"You know how protective they are of their operatives," he said. "I know they might have some information that would be of use, but there's little chance of them coming forward."

"Why the big secret? What does it matter if we know who they are…"

"Because look what happens to them as a result of their job! Two men, who might not even make it through the night, are lying in hospital!" Ethan was stunned into silence having never seen any outburst or heightened emotion from Sir Jeremy.

"I'm sorry Sir," he said. Sir Jeremy shook his head, waving away the concerns distractedly.

"It's been a hard couple of days," he said. "I'll assign you this job of tracking down information about this terrorist threat. You need to work with the contacts you made in the village. What about the man who arrived in the village and told you about the International Rescue operatives being alive?"

"Manap?" Ethan asked before nodding. "Yeah, I'll start with him." He smiled appreciatively at his superior.

"Thank you for the opportunity. I won't let you down."

"Just…find out everything you can. This group…the leader of this group, he is dangerous. So be careful Ethan."

XXXXX

The office Brains had been allocated, next to the ICU, was already cluttered with medical textbooks, despite only being occupied for one week. Each evening, he'd contacted Jeff to give him details of how Scott and Virgil's recovery was progressing. He could feel Jeff's frustration at the lack of new information. Scott had moved his fingers that morning. Jeff was elated, Brains more subdued. In his office, Brains studied the information gathered during his regular check-ups with Scott and Virgil. He knew as soon as his vid-phone rang that it would be Jeff, looking for another update. He hesitated before answering.

"Mr. Tracy, hello…" he began, but Jeff cut him off.

"Brains, you have a camera in your glasses. You installed it before leaving Tracy Island to work with Scott and Virgil…but you haven't used it. I'm a little concerned, to say the least. Is there something you don't want me to see?"

"T-t-they are stable," Brains assured Jeff.

"Let me see them Brains," Jeff said slowly. Brains lowered his eyes.

"T-t-there's still s-s-some injuries and some s-s-scarring following the surgery," Brains continued before his weary eyes met Jeff's.

"Brains, I know. I'd like to see them," Jeff reiterated, then after a moment, "Please." Brains sighed softly, but nodded, taking his glasses off and activating the camera. He watched Jeff glance at his computer screen before back at the vid-phone.

"Works like a dream Brains," Jeff smiled. "Thank you." Again Brains nodded before ending the vid-phone conversation, putting his glasses back on and making his way from the office. He paused in the corridor outside of the ward before letting the door slide open.

XXXXX

In his office, Jeff fixed his gaze on the computer screen, biting on his bottom lip nervously. He watched the door of the ward swish open and the image was momentarily interrupted with the glare of the strong lighting in the ward. As it settled, Jeff felt his chest tightening, his brought his knuckles to his lips, stifling the gasps that threatened to spill out.

Two beds surrounded by machines, the two occupants hooked up to these machines which were keeping them alive. Jeff closed his eyes wearily, trying to see past the tubes, wires, needles…

The image trembled for a moment and Jeff felt his heart go out to Brains, who had seen this scene every day, but was still struggling to see his friends in this condition.

Brains turned first to Scott, his eyelids were flickering, Brains had told him this was a good sign, although he was still to return to full consciousness. He was pale, looked more fragile somehow, the after effects of the illness he had suffered in the jungle camp. Jeff reached out to touch the screen, placing a finger against the side of Scott's face.

"Wake up son," he whispered. "We're all waiting…"

The image blurred as Brains turned to look at Virgil. Jeff looked past the bruising, as awful as he found it, though he'd seen Virgil battered and bruised post rescue before. What Jeff found most chilling was how motionless he was. He was still, too still, almost lifeless. Jeff wiped at a stray tear trickling down his cheek before he turned away from the screen, finding the image of looking at his son in such as condition.

"Virgil…please don't leave us…" he said softly.

XXXXX

_It was after hours of walking through the rows of stalks that Scott admitted to himself that he'd lost Virgil and that his father had been right to ask him to stay inside._

"_I'm coming back Dad," Scott said to the air around him, turning around and making his way back towards the Kansas farmhouse, barely a black spec in the distance. _

_He reached it remarkably quickly and Scott realised that this was not all entirely real. He placed his hand on the door handle, tugging the door open and stepping inside, the sounds of his family surrounding him, pulling him inside and this time Scott let go, he didn't look back to Virgil, he made his way to the dinner table._

__XXXXXX

The first thing he became aware of was a soft beep, piercing the thick silence that packed against his ears. Slowly the beeping gave way to other sounds, soft voices echoing around the room, the soft clinking of metal equipment against a tray.

A soft smile crossed his lips as he realised these sounds were not from the jungle, so against all odds, he had made it out.

He attempted to open his eyes, heavy eyelids making it difficult. The sharp spike of light that met his eyes brought an unwanted groan from between dry lips and suddenly he felt someone next to him, a gentle hand on his arm, softly soothing him.

"Welcome b-b-b-back Scott," the soft voice whispered. Scott instantly recognised the voice of Brains and opened his eyes a little more. He could make out the solid blue frames of the scientists thick glasses.

As the pain medication began to wear off, Scott began to feel the discomfort of his post-surgery stiffness, he began to be more aware of where he was, the familiar sights and sounds of a hospital, he also remembered how he had ended up there and frantically grabbed at Brains' hand.

"V-V-Virgil is here too," Brains' said calmly. "He's j-j-just over there...e-e-easy..."

Scott's wide eyes found Virgil and he slowly relaxed.

"Your father sent me." Scott nodded, wincing at the movement.

"Do you remember anything?" A moment passed and Brains watched sad eyes look towards the motionless form of his younger brother.

"By all accounts, Virgil threw himself on top of you...he sustained a number of gunshot wounds. We are keeping him sedated at the moment to give his body time to heal." Brains looked away as Scott's eyes watered, a single tear made its way down his cheek, glinting in the soft light of the ward.


	15. Welcome Back Scott

_Thanks again for the reviews! Hopefully more of an insight into some of the peripheral characters in this chapter._

The warm breeze stirred Ethan's dishevelled hair. The hospital wasn't quite what he had expected, with well-kept gardens filled with dazzling colours and intoxicating scents. The blinding white uniforms of the doctors and nurses caught his eye, but they ignored him.

Some digging had revealed that the two injured International Rescue members had been flown to a hospital in Singapore, so Ethan had packed a rucksack and travelled there. Defying Sir Jeremy's orders was something of a concern, but Ethan reasoned that if he was able to gain any information about their time in captivity, get some idea of who was behind their abduction, and Jack's murder, risking his job was worth it.

He meant International Rescue no harm. He could keep their identities secret, keeping secrets was practically part of his job description.

He couldn't help but get the feeling he was being left out of something. Sir Jeremy's outburst during their last conversation led him to believe he was a lot closer to the organisation that an agent with a passing interest.

Then there was Lady Penelope, who had been with Sir Jeremy when he'd told them about the missing International Rescue members. How much did she know? Was she part of the wider organisation? He clutched his rucksack a little tighter and planned how he would gain access to the two patients.

XXXXXX

Scott smiled as Brains placed the three colourful pills on the table in front of Scott along with a tumbler of water.

"Thanks Brains," he said, his voice still a little hoarse. He took the medicine quickly before glancing over at Virgil.

"Morning Virg," he said. "How are you?" Scott's smile faded slightly as he looked back to Brains. Brains gave him a sympathetic smile. Virgil's temperature had risen sharply during the night, prompting worries that an infection had set it. Potentially disastrous to Virgil's weakened body. Doctor Buxton had worked quickly and calmly, diagnosing a lengthy list of treatments. As of the morning, Virgil's temperature had returned to normal.

"G-g-give him time," Brains said softly. Scott nodded, smiling at his sleeping brother.

"Just don't take too long Virgil." Brains placed a reassuring hand on Scott's arm.

"You need to m-m-make sure you're g-g-getting rest too. Not s-s-sitting up worrying a-a-about Virgil." Scott's guilty half smile gave him away, failing to hide it behind another sip of water.

"I can't help it. The longer he's like this, the less likely it is he will wake up…am I right?" Brains busied himself adjusting the drip, pushing large doses of antibiotics through Virgil's system in an attempt to speed up his body's recovery and fight off any further infection. He could feel Scott's eyes fixed on him, a cool steely gaze burning through his back and he turned to face his friend.

"N-n-never give up, Scott."

XXXXX

The guards at the end of the corridor smiled as Doctor Buxton gave them a mock salute. She glanced over the updated notes on Virgil's condition as she paused outside of the ICU ward, noting the improvement to his temperature with some relief. Infection following such lengthy surgery was common, particularly when wounds inflicted during his time in the jungle had not been properly treated.

The International men were definitely fighters.

Doctor Buxton stopped reading as she heard Doctor Hackenbracker chatting in a soft voice with the International man referred to as 'Patient A' – all part of the heightened security, she had been advised. She was intrigued by the new Doctor, young, clever, but yet seemed a little ill at ease treating the two patients that he'd been brought in to treat. There was something not quite right, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"Never give up Scott…" Doctor Buxton paused as she heard the doctor speak those words, words weighed down with emotion.

They spoke as though they had known each other for a lot longer than a week.

Also, they were on first name terms and nicknames by the sounds of things. Doctor Hackenbracker was referred to as 'Brains'. Waiting to hear any more, she was almost disappointed when the conversation returned to the stitching of Scott's wounds. She cleared her throat softly as she made her way into the ward, flashing a bright smile at Doctor Hackenbracker.

"Good morning," she trilled brightly. "And good morning to you." She turned her attention to Scott.

"I'm Doctor Pavi Buxton, I'm going to be getting you back to full health as quickly as possible so we can get you discharged and back home." Usually that caused the patients concerned to be filled with delight. Scott's frown deepened and he glanced towards his comatose partner.

"Not without…my colleague," Scott said, hesitating as Brains shot him a warning look. Dr Buxton smiled warmly at Scott and nodded understandingly.

"Of course," she assured Scott with a small smile, looking back towards Doctor Hackenbracker, who fumbled anxiously with the dressing on Scott's chest. She checked over Virgil's vitals, catching Scott's anxious gaze as she frowned.

"He's okay after last night, right?" Scott asked, his voice strained with worry. Doctor Buxton nodded reassuringly.

"Yes, much better. But we need to keep a close eye on him." Scott returned the nod, reaching over to place the tips of his fingers against his friend's hand, the only part he could reach.

"D-d-don't strain…" Doctor Hackenbracker warned. Scott reluctantly sat back.

"You seem very close," she said, making her way to Scott's bedside.

"We are," Scott said. "I don't know what I'd have done if he hadn't been there with me in the jungle." Doctor Hackenbracker paused in his work, his eyes fixed on Scott as he cleared his throat, shrugging off any momentary emotion he might have shown.

"I suppose in your line of work, you must get very close. Anyway, you're looking better Scott and your injuries are healing very nicely. Let's hope your colleague here can recover as well as you."

"Y-y-yes, let's," Dr Hackenbracker said, almost inaudibly, but Doctor Buxton heard it as she turned to leave the ward. She had something of a better understanding about Doctor Hackenbracker.

XXXXXX

Brains placed the tablet PC on Scott's table and stepped back. Scott slowly lifted it and smiled softly when he saw his father's face on the screen. His father looked stressed, but his smile was wide and showed immense relief at seeing Scott for the first time since he'd left for the rescue in the depths of the Malaysian jungle.

It seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Scott..." Jeff reached out to touch the screen, his eyes passing over his eldest sons fading bruises, the dark shadows under his eyes, the weight loss which his face showed.

"Dad…it's good to see you," Scott said, cracking the Tracy grin and for a moment Jeff would have believed everything was okay.

"How are you son?"

"Better Dad," Scott assured him. "Honestly, much better. Brains has done a great job."

"Why do you think I sent him?" Jeff smiled. "He's the link we have with you just now…you understand that we couldn't come…"

"No, I do Dad. Who knows who might be involved with that group from the jungle? I wouldn't want you or anyone else back home putting themselves at risk." Jeff smiled at Scott' confident assurances. He'd known his field commander would be able to see the bigger picture.

"And Virgil? How is he doing?" Jeff asked. Scott glanced away, that confident smile slipping, replaced with helplessness and frustration, that Scott was, for once, unable to help his brother.

"He's not woken up," Scott sighed.

"If I know my sons as well as I think I do, Virgil will be fighting his way back to us…he's not going to give up that easily. Not after what you managed to survive so far."

XXXXX

Parker watched the sleek, black Bentley making its way up the tree-lined driveway, showered with red leaves as it passed each tree. He stepped out to greet Sir Jeremy as he exited his car.

"Good afternoon Sir," Parker said, accepting Sir Jeremy's handshake. "How lovely to see you."

"Thank you Parker. I've requested tea with her ladyship," Sir Jeremy smiled.

"Of course."

"Sir Jeremy, always a pleasure," Penelope smiled as Parker showed her friend into the drawing room. He kissed her on the cheek with his dry lips, taking her hands.

"How are you?" she asked him, gesturing to take a seat. Sir Jeremy accepted, smiling as Parker placed a tray of tea and biscuits on the coffee table in front of him.

"I'm well Penelope. And you?"

"Very good, thank you. More so now that Scott seems to be on the mend. Hopefully Virgil will follow."

"It is good news," Sir Jeremy smiled. "Jeff told me he'd spoken with Scott too. That must have lifted their spirits somewhat at Tracy Island." Parker handed Sir Jeremy a steaming cup of tea which he accepted gratefully.

"So what brings you here?" Penelope asked, taking her own cup of tea.

"My operatives…well, one in particular. Ethan."

"After what happened in Malaysia, I'm not surprised he is perhaps struggling to continue with his work," Penelope sympathised, but Sir Jeremy shook his head.

"No, it's quite the opposite actually. He is keener than ever to be working. I'm worried about him. He has been affected by the death of his friend. He wants to find the people responsible and he thinks talking to Scott and Virgil is the best way to do that." Parker and Penelope exchanged equally alarmed looks.

"But he can't…does he know of our relationship with the Tracy family?" Penelope asked, discarding her cup and saucer.

"No, but he's a determined young man and I don't doubt he will try and find out who they are…" Sir Jeremy trailed off, torn between wanting his young colleague to be able to identify, find and stop the terrorist threat in Malaysia and protecting the Tracy family, particularly Scott and Virgil.

"I understand his desire to find out who did this…I would be only too happy to meet the man behind Scott and Virgil's treatment, as would the Tracy family, but Jeff's policy is very clear," Penelope sighed.

"I know. It's a secret organisation and the fewer people who know, the better. I don't want to compromise their security any more than you do."

"What can we do to minimise the risk?" Penelope asked him.

"Well, I've sent him back to the village. That might keep him busy. I feel awful, but…"

"Needs must," Penelope interrupted.

XXXXXX

In his dilapidated hostel, Ethan rubbed the bruises on his arms. He'd been swiftly and roughly escorted from the hospital grounds as soon as he had mentioned speaking with the International Rescue men. He'd shown his MI5 identity cards, explained his role in finding them, but it had fallen on deaf ears. He had tried to further explain his mission, but had been too busy trying to keep up with the quick pace the guards had as they, for want of a better word, threw him out of the front gate of the hospital.

He was dejected, but more determined than ever. He'd just need a better plan of action for next time.

XXXXXX

Brains stirred a second sugar into his black coffee in almost a daze. He'd monitored Virgil's vitals and spent much of his few hours of downtime studying possible treatments to speed up his return to the conscious world.

"Hey there," a pleasant voice reached his ears. Brains smiled shyly at Doctor Buxton as she entered the doctor's lounge.

"W-w-would you like a-a-a uh a coffee D-D-Doctor?" Brains asked.

"Call me Pavi. And I'd love one, thanks," Doctor Buxton replied, taking a seat at the table in the centre of the small room, passing her eyes over the jumbled collection of newspapers, doctor's journals and gossip magazines.

"So, I gather you were brought in to help with the International Rescue guys?" she asked. "Where did you work before Doctor?"

"M-m-my friends c-c-call me uh Brains. I…uh…it was for a p-p-private practice." Pavi glanced up from the magazines.

"Brains, huh? Interesting nickname. Cute." Brains felt his cheeks burning with the unexpected compliment and he smiled shyly.

"So…I saw you talking to patient A as he's referred to. You called him Scott." Brains looked up, unable to keep the flicker of guilt and worry from his eyes. Pavi watched his reaction carefully, her face unreadable.

"And you called patient B, Virgil and patient A, or Scott, seems very fond of patient B, of Virgil…they are brothers, aren't they?"

"I…I…uh…" Brains stumbled over his words before stopping. Doctor Buxton stood a sip of her coffee before placing a hand over Brains'. His eyes flickered uncertainly, trying not to look uncomfortable at the unexpected contact.

"Did you work with International Rescue?" Brains' pained expression wasn't lost on the doctor and she smiled softly, letting Brains' hand go and cupping both around her mug.

"So they are your friends," Doctor Buxton said. "I can understand why you want to help them, although it really does goes against all professional codes, you know?"

"Ah…I…yes, b-b-but…" Pavi smiled at him, a soft reassuring smile.

"I understand completely however. Don't worry Doctor, your secret is safe with me."


	16. Unease

_Thanks for the continued reviews. __Warnings of some strong language in this chapter._

Another week passed. There was still no change in Virgil's condition. Those on Tracy Island tried to keep their spirits up, reminiscing of stories of daring rescues where Scott and Virgil had triumphed, against all odds. Jeff assured his family that Virgil would not be giving up, he was a Tracy after all, but even that age old mantra was beginning to wear a bit thin. He'd spoken it to Gordon that very morning and had noticed the sceptical tone was hard to keep out of his voice.

"If we are so worried about Virgil, can you imagine how Scott must be feeling?" Alan asked Gordon over a distracting game of pool. John sat against the mini bar, installed at Scott's insistence, casting a critical gaze over the shot Gordon was lining up.

"I bet he's nightmare for company at the moment. Poor Brains will be getting sick of hearing Scott asking how Virgil is."

"And he'll be making himself sick worrying about him and forgetting he has serious injuries to recover from," John added. The three younger Tracy's glanced at one another, although passed off as a light-hearted joke, it hid their real concerns over the health of both their older brothers. Their smiles were forced and Gordon placed down the pool que.

"Beer me," he said to John, who opened the fridge obediently, pulling out three Budweiser's. Scott's favourite. John twisted the cap, gazing almost mournfully at the bottle in his hands.

"This isn't getting us anywhere," Gordon said after a moment. "I'm gonna work on Four for a while."

"But it's not been used…" Alan began, but trailed off into nothing as Gordon left the pool room. John took a sip of his beer before discarding it at the top of the mini bar.

"Here, I'll give you a game," he offered, lifting Gordon's abandoned pool que.

"You want to make this more interesting?" Alan asked him nonchalantly. John paused in chalking the tip of his que and smiled at his brother.

"What do you have in mind?"

"If I win…I get your slice of pie tonight." John pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"Interesting…so if I win, I get your slice?" Alan nodded, full of confidence.

"Yeah."

"Do ya feel lucky punk?" John asked him with a grim. Alan frowned, looking a little lost at John's comment.

"Well, do ya?" John asked, nudging Alan's arm with his elbow. Alan stepped away from him, shaking his head.

"You're weird. Let's play."

XXXXXX

Scott sat beside Virgil's bed, his eyes fixed on the forced up and down movement of his chest, waiting for his eyes to open, for him to crack a half-smile and a dry joke which would have him chuckling despite himself. Scott wanted more than anything to back home, amongst the teasing words of their brothers, the quiet reassurance of their father.

"Why hasn't he woken up?" Scott asked Brains as he entered the ward. Brains pushed his glasses further up his nose, casting a critical look at Virgil's monitor.

"I-i-it...uh…t-t-takes time Scott..." Scott prodded his brother softly.

"I was shot twice and I'm up...c'mon Virgil, it's not like you to let me win that easily..."

"Virgil…uh…received more w-w wounds than you Scott..." Scott looked up at the scientist, the smirk slipping from his face, the joking prodding stopping.

"How many?" he asked, although as soon as he'd spoken it, he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer. Brains looked away.

"Brains?"

"S-S-Six, Scott," Brains snapped. "Six!" Scott's eyes widened, the shimmer of shocked tears caught in the dim light from the machines monitoring Virgil.

"Six?" he repeated softly, looking back at Virgil and taking hold of his hand, warm to the touch. Brains swallowed nervously, stepping back from the bedside as Scott's face fell.

"What the fuck Virgil?" Scott asked him. "You're an idiot, you know that? You should have left me there and ran like I told you!" His voice grew in volume as he reached the end of his sentence. Brains found Scott's distraught features difficult to watch as he leaned in close to his comatose brother, his fingers tangling in Virgil's soft brown hair. Scott's fear of losing Virgil materialised as anger.

"Don't you dare give up," Scott whispered fiercely into Virgil's ear, giving his hair a sharp tug as though to emphasise his point.

"When we get out of here, I'm gonna kick your ass for ignoring my order Virg," Scott's weak joke was followed with a harsh laugh before he sniffed, wiping moisture from his cheeks. Brains gave Scott a moment before placing a hand on his shoulder, encouraging him to return to his hospital bed.

"I-I-If Virgil hadn't s-s-stayed with you, how d-d-do you think he w-w-would have coped...ah…leaving you?" Brains asked him as Scott closed his eyes wearily. His reply was instant.

"He couldn't have left me. I know, because I would never have left him."

XXXXXX

Pavi found Scott huddled over the bed of his brother, as she now knew them to be. His chin rested on his folded arms, his eyes fixed on his brother's peaceful face. She moved towards him, taking in his tired and strained features. She was about to chide him for forgetting about his own recovery when he spoke.

"He still hasn't woken up," Scott said softly.

"We're monitoring your friend very closely," Pavi assured him.

"How bad is he really?" Scott asked her, his voice carrying a slight note of desperation.

"How much did Doctor Hackenbracker tell you about what happened?" she asked him. Scott swallowed thickly and cleared his throat.

"Um…well, he said he…he threw himself on top of me so he took most of the shots…" he trailed off, rubbing his hand across his bristly chin, frowning, his eyes beginning to cloud with tears.

Pavi was prepared for the tears and smiled sadly as he brushed the first of them away with the back of his hand. He placed his head in his hands, leaning over to rest his elbows on his knees.

"Let it go," she urged him gently. He made no sound, but Pavi watched Scott's shoulders shuddering with his sharp breaths, the violent sobs vibrating through him. She placed a soft hand at the top of his back, offering a weak gesture of comfort.

"It must be hard seeing him like this," she said softly, "but as horrific as his injuries are, Virgil…"

She felt Scott tense at her mistake, the use of a name she should not have known. She kept her face calm as Scott turned to study her.

"How do you know his name?" he asked her, his hushed voice carrying a note of threat.

"I heard Doctor Hakenbracker, or Brains as you call him, talking," she confessed. Scott shook his head, pushing himself to his feet, placing his hand over the wound in his shoulder with a wince.

"You were spying on us?" he accused.

"Careful Scott," Pavi warned, placing a steadying hand against his arm, but he wrenched it free, sending a shooting pain across his chest as he strained the wounds that were still in the process of healing.

"Sit down!" Pavi ordered him, taking a needle and vial from the cupboards beside them and preparing the injection.

"What the hell is that?" Scott asked as she wiped an antiseptic wipe across the top of his arm and swiftly pierced the needle into his skin.

"Morphine," she assured him. "The pain should ease shortly." She disposed of the used needle and helped Scott back to his hospital bed.

"Now, as I was going to say, I overheard your conversation. But it doesn't matter. Who you are will go no further, I can assure you." Scott eyed her wearily before relenting slightly.

"Brains is a terrible liar anyway," he half smiled.

"He tried to tell me a story about working in a private practice," Pavi told him, her eyes sparkling with hidden laughter remembering how flustered the young doctor had been.

"He is so determined to help Virgil," she continued. "You are close to him?"

"We've known him for a while, yeah," Scott commented. "He is a genius. With lots of things, not just medicine."

"Well, he is working incredibly hard to speed up your recovery. However, you're not doing yourself any favours by not resting yourself. When Virgil wakes up, he's not going to want to see you looking tired."

"But what if he…"

"If there is any change to Virgil's condition, you will be the first to know, I promise." Scott half smiled, easily reassured by Pavi's soft voice. He closed his eyes momentarily as she placed a soft hand against the top of his arm, a soothing touch to encourage him to relax into sleep. She waited until Scott's breathing deepened in sleep before stepping back, looking over both her patients.

She smiled in satisfaction. With one worried brother now sleeping, she wondered what she might be able to do to help ease Brains' worry.

XXXXXX

Pavi gazed at the young scientist huddled over his desk and opened the office door slowly. Brains glanced round at her, his eyes tired behind his glasses.

"You are working late," she commented, sitting next to him at his desk as his eyes gazed sightlessly at a thick medical textbook, one she hadn't seen since her training in England. Brains was seemingly unconcerned about his welfare, instead turning the topic to the condition of his friends.

"How are they?" Brains asked her.

"No change for Virgil," she reported, watching Brains closely as she spoke about Scott. "Scott was a little upset…I think the stress of his experience in the jungle and his brother being so badly injured finally caught up with him. But he's sleeping now."

Brains face crumpled, as though he too were about to dissolve into sobs, but he steadied his emotions and turned to Pavi.

"Uh I-I-I feel like I'm letting S-S-Scott down…I-I-I don't know h-h-how I can possibly help…I've tried…uh…e-e-everything…" Brains looked almost defeated as he felt Pavi reach for his hand.

"Brains, you have done a wonderful job. Scott knows that, their family will know that. Sometimes, it just takes a little more time. Virgil will be okay, I'm sure of it, but we need to be patient." Brains glanced up at his colleague, someone who'd become almost a friend. He'd shied away from female company, apart from Tin Tin, feeling he was socially awkward and his comfortable conversation dialogue was not normally light-hearted flirty sentences which seemed to work for the Tracy brothers, even John to a certain extent.

Pavi smiled softly as Brains glanced away from her deep, understanding gaze.

"Brains," she whispered in her softly accented tones. He felt her hand against his cheek, easing his head back found to face her. She gently pressed her lips against his.

Brains was shocked and remained still as he processed the exquisite sensation of her soft lips against his. She eased back after a moment.

"I'm sorry…I thought…" He stopped her by placing his own lips against hers, finding that placing his hand against her cheek, kissing her softly over and over, came very naturally to him.

They were interrupted by an alarm from the ICU ward and they separated quickly, exiting Brains' office, exchanging an anxious look. Brains was the first to reach the ward, where he saw Scott frantically pressing the emergency button above Virgil's bed.

"Scott! You should be in bed!" he heard Pavi call from behind him. Scott ignored her concern, instantly grabbing Brains' wrist and pulling him to Virgil's bedside.

Brains felt his gut drop and he swallowed thickly as he glanced down at Virgil's bed.

His dread was replaced by elation as he saw Virgil's eyelids flicker and his fingers brush against Scott's hand. Scott turned to Brains, his eyes wild with excitement.

"Brains! He's waking up! Virg is waking up!"

XXXXXX

Virgil blinked a few times, trying to focus his blurry vision. His mind was clouded with images from his last moments in the forest, the young guards, the Hood, those eyes...he was holding someone...

"_Scott...!"_ He wanted to yell it, but his throat was dry. He tried sitting up, but felt hands against his arms, pushing him down, holding him still.

"Virgil! Virgil...it's ok...it's me..." Above the other voices assaulting his ears, he picked out the reassuring tones of his brothers voice. Panicked eyes found his and he felt Scott place a hand against his cheek, keeping his eyes on him.

"It's ok Virg...we're in a hospital, we're safe now..." Scott managed a trembling smile and Virgil tried to return it, but every thought, every movement felt like an effort. Keeping his eyelids open was becoming more and more difficult.

"Virgil..." Scott said, but it echoed around Virgil's head and it was with some relief that he closed his eyes and accepted a return to the darkness.

XXXXXXX

The news of Virgil waking up was greeted with an impromptu celebration, Kyrano happily serving exotic, non-alcoholic cocktails, extravagantly garnished with fresh fruit and small paper umbrellas. The residents of Tracy Island were giddy with the good news and the cocktails were going down a treat.

Kyrano retreated to the peace of the kitchen, preparing the fruits and juices that he would blend.

The fluttering in his stomach had lingered with him for much of the day. He'd thought it was concern for Scott and Virgil's recovery.

But even with the good news of both making excellent progress, the unsettled feeling lingered. Kyrano slowly cut the mango into small cubes, focussing on this task, trying to still his mind, racing with possibilities of what this sensation meant.

As much as he tried to ignore it, he couldn't.

His half-brother was not yet finished.


	17. Security Breach

_Thanks again for all the reviews. Just a warning, there is one use of strong language from Scott in this chapter..._

The hushed voices of the nightshift nurses floated in through the open door of Scott and Virgil's ward. Scott lay on his side, his hands tucked under his head watching Virgil. He'd been drifting in and out of sleep since waking, Brains had assured him that this was normal.

"Sc…Scott…"

The hushed whisper was almost unheard in the ward, but Scott pushed himself to his feet, easing towards Virgil's bed. He reached out, placing his hand on the bed. He watched as Virgil's fingers slowly curled around his and his blurry eyes opened momentarily.

"Hey Virg," Scott whispered. Virgil blinked slowly, heavy eyelids struggling to remain open.

"It's ok…" Scott assured him, squeezing his hand reassuringly. Virgil managed the faintest of smiles before Scott watched him slip back into sleep, his fingers still clinging to Scott's.

XXXXXXX

Pavi handed Brains the glass of red wine, clinking them together softly.

"Here's to recovery." Brains accepted the glass with a shy smile. They sipped them in something of an awkward silence before Pavi spoke.

"Brains, about earlier," she said, the red wine staining her lips red. It was hard for Brains to not stare at them, reminded of the feel of them against his own previously.

"I…uh…" Brains trailed off as Pavi placed a single finger over his lips.

"I'm sorry if I was a bit forward," she continued. "I like you Brains and I think I got a bit carried away with the moment…I hope you don't mind…" Brains coughed back a giggle and smiled.

"I-I-I…uh…n-n-no!" he pushed his glasses up his nose. "I-I-I'm v-v-very…ah…pleased!" He leaned forward as she did and both bumped noses awkwardly. Brains stumbled over an apology, but Pavi laughed and kissed him. She moved back, placing down her wine glass before taking Brains' from weak fingers before they both began kissing, over and over.

XXXXXXX

As Brains moved to enter Scott and Virgil's ward, Pavi took his hand, gifting him a quick kiss before she hurried down the corridor to deal with her other patients, a flurry of white coat and dark swishing hair. It was only when Brains' heard Scott's soft whistle he remembered he had two important patients to deal with and he turned to look at both staring at him. There was a look of almost disbelief on Scott's face. Virgil was too exhausted to do anything, but wait for Brains' explanation.

"Brains, you dog!" Scott laughed, clapping him on the back.

"I'm awake, right?" Virgil croaked, the corner of his mouth turning up in a small. It took almost all of his energy to do so and he closed his eyes wearily. He felt Brains next to him, replacing the drip with a fresh dose of medication.

"Y-Y-You certainly…uh…are Virgil," he said, unable to hide the smug tone in his voice as Scott shook his head.

"Well, good for you Brains."

"S-S-She is uh…very…good-looking," Brains told Scott, a sheepish smile crossing his face. Virgil placed a hand over his.

"Don't listen to him…just jealous…" Scott managed a mock frown at his brother, but both he and Brains shared a look of relief that Virgil did seem to be getting better with every day.

"N-N-Now to…uh…b-b-business, dressing change."

XXXXXX

Jeff was delighted to see both Scott and Virgil greeting him on the screen. His mother would have told him Virgil looked like death warmed up, his usually tanned skin pale and washed out, the deep circles under his eyes showing the strain his body had been under to attempt to heal itself, but Jeff was just glad to see him alive. Finally both were awake, Scott already back on his feet. Virgil would hopefully be joining him soon.

"Sir Jeremy and Penelope are looking into the group behind…what happened," Jeff chose his words carefully, unsure of exactly how to ask questions about an experience he knew they'd both rather forget about. Scott's smile retreated to more of a pursing of lips and he cast a quick glance at Virgil.

"Well, good," he said, his voice a little strained. "Better they find those responsible than anything else happens, right Virg?" Virgil said nothing and Scott glanced back at his father. Jeff nodded, taking a deep breath before asking the next question.

"How much do you remember?" Jeff asked them.

At his question, Scott glanced up at him, his mouth turning down in a frown before he shrugged.

"It's blurry, you know? I remember Virgil holding me...I think I passed out long before rescue came..." Scott turned to Virgil, who kept his gaze fixed on the sheets in front of him. Jeff's eyes were drawn towards the clear distress on Virgil's face and made a quick decision to change the topic of conversation.

"So Brains tells me that perhaps we might be able to get you both discharged soon," he said brightly, watching a glimmer of hope cross Virgil's face.

"That would be great," he managed to croak with an attempt at a smile. Jeff returned his smile.

"It will be great to have you both home. You have no idea how much John has missed your support against Gordon and Alan." The humorous tone in his voice was strained, but Scott and Virgil managed soft chuckles, glad to hear that some sort of normality still existed in their island home.

"Tell Grandma to get the pecan pie ready," Scott said. "Apple for you, Virg?"

"Sounds good…" Virgil's eyes slid closed and Scott smiled.

"I'll let you boys get some rest and put that order in for you," Jeff said. "Take care, both of you. We'll see you very soon." Scott whispered a goodbye as he saw Virgil had fallen asleep, cutting the link to his father's laptop and placing the tablet down on the bedside table.

He sat in the silence for a moment, listening to the sounds of Virgil's deep breathing and the soft beep from the heart monitor. Virgil murmured in his sleep softly and Scott reached over, brushing soft brown curls back from his forehead.

"It's ok Virg," he said softly. "We're in the hospital, remember?" There was no sign that Virgil had heard him, but the mutterings stopped. Scott hoped he didn't dream of the same things that clouded his own subconscious thoughts. Dreams of his closest brother being injured, being threatened, being shot…those images from the helicopter had kept him awake on more than one occasion, watching Virgil's blood spilling onto the stained metal floor and being unable to do anything to save him.

"Pull yourself together Tracy," Scott muttered to himself, quickly blinking back tears and clearing his throat. He had never been one to dwell on the negatives of the past. There was always another mission, always another rescue to focus on.

Virgil's gown had slid down his shoulder a little and Scott's eyes were drawn to the number of blood spattered dressings that covered his upper chest. He was returned to Brains' revelation that Virgil had been shot a ridiculous number of times…in reality, he shouldn't have been able to survive.

But Virgil was a Tracy and therefore had something that kept him fighting. Just like Gordon after the Hydrofoil accident. The doctors said they thought he might never wake. Then when he did, they thought he'd never walk again.

And how many times had he and Virgil walked away from death-defying missions as part of International Rescue. Shot down over the Atlantic or the desert and still making it home.

"We've got some luck," Scott said to his peaceful brother, taking his hand and bringing it to his lips in an unusually intimate gesture.

"I know…" Virgil said quietly, startling Scott. Blearily, Virgil glanced up at him and Scott let his hand drop.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" he asked him. Virgil smiled sleepily.

"Nah…just…a bit sore…"

"You want me to get Brains?" Scott asked him, already pushing himself to his feet. Virgil fumbled for Scott's hand, shaking his head slowly.

"I'll be ok," he assured him as Scott eased back into his chair beside Virgil's bedside.

"I'll stay here," Scott said as Virgil curled his fingers around Scott's hand, gripping it weakly as though to ensure Scott didn't disappear. Scott could feel a lump thickening in his throat.

"Thanks…"

XXXXXXX

Ethan returned to the bench outside of the hospital, keeping clear of the security guards that milled closed to the main entrance. His only chance to speak with International Rescue and he'd blown it by striding into the hospital, full of misplaced confidence. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his worn green trousers.

"Are you visiting someone?" a voice asked from beside him. Ethan turned to see a young female doctor, dark skinned with long dark hair that shimmered in the hot afternoon sun.

"Uh…yeah, I have two friends here," Ethan began. "They were injured during some…bomb blasts in a village." The young doctor frowned and shook her head.

"I don't think they are here, I'm afraid. Have you asked at reception?"

"The…um…guards wouldn't let me pass," Ethan gestured towards the rifle wielding men on either side of the entrance.

"Oh, right," the doctor smiled. "Well, we have to take extra security precautions at the moment. Do you have the names of your friends?" Ethan looked blankly at her before he sighed, shoulder's slumping.

"Eh, no," he finally admitted. "They…um…look, I'm not going to lie. I work for the British Government and I'm currently investigating some incidents that have taken place in Malaysia. I know you have two International Rescue men in your hospital and it would be really helpful if I could speak with them." The doctor looked stunned for a moment before she took his arm, pulling him away from the hospital gates.

"I suggest you leave here," she said, her tone ice cold.

"I don't mean them any harm, I just…"

"Go now," she snapped. "You don't want to get yourself caught up in any trouble by being here." She began walking away from him, back towards the hospital. Ethan was about to call after her when he noticed her attention caught by another man. She greeted him with a formal handshake, glancing over her shoulder towards Ethan and leading her companion away from him.

As they moved out of sight, Ethan caught a glimpse of the man she was with. He was tall, tanned and dressed smartly, wiping a clean handkerchief over his bald head. The man turned, looking towards Ethan and automatically he stepped back, struck by the menace that his look had carried, his eyes were hard to look away from and Ethan felt himself becoming less aware of the bustling crowds around him, the yells from the street traders beginning to fade. He stumbled back and was shocked as he heard a furious blast from a taxi driver, yelling at him in a language he didn't understand.

The sudden noise was enough to break the spell and when Ethan glanced round, both the young doctor and the man were gone.

XXXXXXX

Virgil was out of bed.

His steps were slow and often accompanied by hisses and grunts of pain and he gripped Scott's arm with his hand, but he was out of bed and walking.

Brains had encouraged them to take a stroll around the ward, which had them both rolling their eyes, but Scott could see the clear delight in Virgil's eyes when he took the first hesitant steps, his bare feet padding gently against the tiled floor. Scott eased Virgil back towards his bed as they finished their second lap of the ward.

"Not bad Virg, we'll have you racing along the corridors in no time."

"Yeah," Virgil agreed, stopping suddenly with a gasped groan as Scott inadvertently brushed his hand against the tender wounds on Virgil's back.

"Shit!" Scott moaned. "Virg, you okay?" He helped Virgil sit on his bed before pressing the call button for Brains.

"I'm so sorry Virg…" Scott tried, but Virgil brushed aside his unnecessary apologies with a shaky hand. Brains was quick to arrive in the ward, checking the dressings silently.

"Y-Y-You're ok," he concluded after careful studying of the injuries. "B-B-Be careful. Y-Y-You've got a-a-a number of i-i-injuries which n-n-need time t-t-to heal."

"I know," Virgil said softly.

"Sorry," Scott added, both brothers smiling meekly at Brains. He smiled before leaving them alone. Virgil glanced at Scott, half shrugging.

"Doctor's orders huh?" Scott smiled weakly.

"Brains told me how many times you were shot, Virgil." Virgil said nothing, his eyes fixed on the tiled pattern on the floor.

"I know how you ended up with so many as well." Again Virgil remained silent, but Scott saw him tense a little, his gaze flickering uncertainly as Scott placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Show me..." Scott said. Virgil turned away, shrugging Scott's hand from his shoulder. Scott paused for a moment before trying again.

"Please Virg…show me…"

Virgil removed his shirt slowly, lowering his eyes as Scott looked firstly at the fading bruises before moving to Virgil's back, numerous scars hidden under clean bandages across broad shoulders. He reached out to touch one, but hesitated as he saw the muscles in Virgil's back tense momentarily.

"Jesus Virgil, what were you thinking?" Virgil pulled his shirt back on, ignoring Scott's question. Scott placed his head in his hands, running his hands over his stubbly hair. Virgil glanced over his shoulder at where Scott sat at the edge of the hospital bed.

"Because I love you Scott..." Scott glanced up at his brother's whispered words. Virgil's eyes dulled and he lay back against the bed, turning away from Scott with a soft sigh. Scott cleared his throat awkwardly as he eased himself towards Virgil's bed, groaning as he lay down beside Virgil on a bed that was a little too small for their bodies. He was careful to avoid any contact with the wounds on Virgil's back.

"I know this might feel a bit weird Virg, but I need this..." Scott said, wrapping his arm around Virgil and pushing his forehead against the back of Virgil's neck. Virgil remained infuriatingly tense in his embrace. Scott remained silent, waiting for Virgil to acknowledge the comfort he was trying to offer him, but Virgil said nothing. Scott was about to pull back when he felt Virgil shift and his hand brushed against his, holding his hand tightly. It was the closest to a 'thanks' that Scott was going to get at that moment and he smiled.

XXXXXXX

Doctor Pavi Buxton brushed her hair, one hundred strokes, as her routine dictated. She applied a thin line of kohl around her eyes and brushed dark lips gloss across her lips. Studying her reflection in the mirror, she smiled in approval, before lifting her handbag. Her mobile phone flashed with a red LED, indicating she had new messages to read. She scanned through the usual offers from her mobile phone provider, another job opportunity based in India and a message from a name she knew well.

She highlighted the attached phone number before calling it, taking a seat at the side of her bed.

"Any change with our two patients?" the voice asked as soon as they answered.

"As I told you earlier, they are both awake. Scott's been awake for a few weeks now. He is back on his feet. Virgil woke up last night, he's still out of it though."

"How badly injured?"

"The final count was six gunshot wounds…"

"Imbicles!" the voice on the other end of the phone yelled. "They were not supposed to be injured!"

"Your men were far too trigger happy. Anyway, from all accounts the UK forces dealt with them quickly and as painlessly as possible." She listened to the laboured breathing on the other end of the phone and let a small smile cross her face.

There were few who would cross a man like Belah Gaat, but she had the two men he'd lost, two powerful men. When he'd offered her money, threatened her with violence, she had easily brushed him aside.

She wanted his power. She knew who she was. Her grandfather had been one of the first ones to explore the village where he had been found. The details of his encounters with the extraordinary man were relayed to her by emails until his sudden disappearance. Her grandfather's adventures inspired her to delve further into the spiritual medicines that he'd described and the mysterious powers that he'd witnessed.

She'd been seduced by the ideas of control, able to pull others under her spell and manipulate them to give her the attention, the glory and the positions she deserved.

"I need them back," Belah said after a moment.

"Once they are both ready for discharge, I will let you know."


	18. Remember Me?

_Thanks again for the reviews!_

She was taking too long to carry out her job.

Belah, hidden in the shadows beside the hospital, clutched his small briefcase, a clever disguise hidden inside.

He had run out of patience. He should have known better than to expect Doctor Buxton to work with him. As soon as she had tried to bargain with him, he should have known she was getting too confident, too cocky.

Yes, she had a privileged position in the hospital, closely monitoring the two men of International Rescue, and had she complied with his requests at the very beginning, he would not have felt the need to take matters into his own hand.

He'd prepared the previous evening, honing his skills to perfection, allowing him to achieve his goal without the help of a young doctor.

XXXXXXXXX

Brains smiled as Pavi gave him one last lingering kiss. They'd grabbed an hour break alone together and had spent it in each other's arms.

"I need to go," she smiled. "Scott and Virgil will be ready to be discharged soon and I need to do some final check-ups."

"Y-y-you give them uh m-m-more attention than me," Brains said with a shy smile. He reached over to put his glasses on as Pavi gathered her clothes, pulling on her white doctor's coat. She quickly made her way to her office, glancing around her before opening the door.

She stepped into the dimly lit office, fumbling for the light switch when she was grabbed and pushed up against the door, a strong hand silencing her squeal of surprise.

She knew it was Belah Gaat and began to struggle in his grip as she realised perhaps she had underestimated his threats.

His eyes bored into hers and she found herself stilling, unable to do anything but look back into his mesmerising gaze. Belah moved his gloved hand down, his fingers curling around her slim throat before inflicting an iron grip, squeezing until her body began to shake.

"You got far too ambitious for my liking. I do not need you to get to International Rescue. You have become useless to me."

Belah Gaat stepped back, the limp body of his former associate falling to the ground with a thud.

He closed his eyes, taking a moment to compose himself and prepare himself for his next move. He removed the stethoscope from around her neck and unclipped her security badge, admiring the microchip which would allow him access into the ICU.

He knew about the guards, he knew about the restricted personnel allowed access to the patients, but he had that covered. He smiled as he pocketed the badge and placed the stethoscope around his neck.

XXXXXXXXXX

Doctor Buxton had suggested to Scott and Virgil that they spoke to a therapist, a psychologist of sorts who had worked with many army personnel following armed conflict they had faced. She had spoken very highly of him and while initially they had both dismissed the suggestion, but after a number of troubling nights, where Virgil found himself reflecting continually on the more disturbing moments in the jungle camp, he had agreed to speak with him.

Virgil had asked that Scott wasn't told. He was almost ashamed that he had to seek out help to deal with what had happened while Scott looked as though he had shrugged it off.

But Virgil was almost desperate to have some kind of advice or guidance as to how to move on from what happened. He'd try anything.

XXXXXXXXXX

Belah smiled at the stranger who gazed back at him in the mirror. His persona for today was Doctor Rubin, a psychologist who specialised in trauma resulting from violence, hostage situations. He felt he had a great understanding of the trauma the two patients he was going to work with were feeling. He stepped out of Doctor Buxton's office, clutching Virgil Tracy's medical file. He smiled pleasantly at two nurses passing him in the corridor, perhaps admiring the distinguished looking man he was pretending to be.

As he approached the two guards, he closed his eyes momentarily, preparing himself.

"Hello Doctor, how can we help you?" one asked. Belah smiled, a glint in his eye.

"Good evening gentlemen, I'm here to meet with one of your patients. A Mr. Virgil Tracy…"

"I'm afraid Doctor that we don't have a record of this appointment…" the guard spoke as he scanned through the list of appointments and doctors that were allowed access to their protected patients. Belah had expected this and frowned.

"Let me check, if you don't mind…" he said softly, catching the eye of each guard momentarily. He took the clipboard and ran his finger down the list of names, picking one at random and tapping it.

"Here we go," he said, showing the name to the two guards.

"Ah, sorry Doctor. Our mistake."

"No worries gentlemen. Good to see you are doing your job so well."

XXXXXXXX

Virgil opened the office door slowly, hesitating as he glanced firstly at the Doctor behind his desk before looking around at the surroundings, the medical journals, the obligatory couch. The Doctor must have felt his unease as he got to his feet, smiling warmly.

"You must be Virgil?" he asked, getting to his feet and gesturing to the soft seat in front of the desk.

"Please, take a seat," he added, waiting as Virgil closed the door, walking stiffly to the seat and easing himself down.

"You are in a lot of pain?"

"Comes and goes," Virgil grunted, finally settling himself in the chair.

"I'm Doctor Rubin," he introduced himself. "I'm glad you've chosen to meet with me. I think we can make a lot of progress." Virgil tried and failed to hide a sceptical look, which the doctor responded to with a smile of his own.

"Your file says you haven't spoken much, Virgil." Virgil lifted emotionless eyes to look at the older doctor sitting across from him. He had salt and pepper hair and wore a pair of dark rimmed glasses perched at the end of his nose as he read through the notes he'd been given by Doctor Buxton.

"What's to talk about?" Virgil answered after a long silence. The Doctor's mouth twitched in a small smile before he placed the notes down and removed his glasses, pocketing them in his breast pocket carefully.

"How are you feeling?"

"Sore. Tired. Fed up being stuck here."

"Worried?" Virgil stopped, sitting back and wincing as he strained on the stitching on one of his wounds.

"Careful," the doctor advised. "I understand that talking about what has happened to you, what caused the horrible injuries you have sustained is very difficult."

"No shit," Virgil muttered shifting uncertainly. "Look, I'm not entirely sure how this works, but I'm not sure we're ready to launch into a detailed description of what happened." The doctor shook his head.

"You have to deal with this. It is hard, I have no doubts about that. I have an idea of just how awful your experience in the Malaysian jungle was." Virgil frowned, scratching at his stubbly cheek. He knew the notes the doctor had on his desk detailed his injuries and gave an indication of how he had got them, but there had never been any information about where he and Scott had been. It hadn't been seen as important.

"How do you know I was in the jungle in Malaysia?" Virgil asked after a moment. "That information wasn't shared…" He trailed off as the doctor got to his feet, turning his back on Virgil momentarily. As he turned, Virgil caught a glimpse of a faint line around his jaw line, a distinct difference between the tanned hands of the doctor and his paler face. Virgil gripped the chair sides, preparing to push himself to his feet, a sudden feeling of fear and apprehension flooding him as he noticed the doctor glancing at him, sensing his change in attitude.

"Do you know what I liked most about you Virgil?" If Virgil had been about to leave, those words froze him in place.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, although he had a sickening feeling that he already knew.

"You fought me every step. You didn't do what I thought you would. I liked that." Virgil sat back in his chair, swallowing thickly as the 'doctor' made his way towards him.

"Nice disguise," he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the bobbled carpet in front of him. "An improvement." Belah ignored the jibe, stopping directly in front of Virgil.

"Look at me, Virgil." Virgil lifted his eyes towards Belah, managing a smile of triumph as the dark eyes settled on his.

"You're going to do to me what you did with those boys in the forest? Make me do whatever you want? Go on, try it!" Virgil taunted him. Belah sneered, eyes gleaming with menace as he leaned in close to Virgil.

"That, my boy, is exactly what I intend to do."

XXXXXXXX

Scott rubbed the hair gel through his hair, packing away the few toiletries the hospital had provided him and Virgil with during their stay. He had been told that he and Virgil could be ready to go home after Doctor Buxton did a last check-up. Scott was on edge, desperate for the arrival of the doctor, eagerly anticipating confirmation of their discharge.

He had a feeling Brains had worked some magic with her, getting their discharge date so early considering Virgil was still undergoing treatment on his injuries. He heard someone entering the ward and quickly left the small bathroom. He met a pair of blue frames glasses and sighed.

"Oh, it's you," Scott said, a note of disappointment tainting his voice. Brains glanced at him with a look of surprise.

"Sorry Brains, it's just you said about me and Virg getting out of here…by the way, is Doctor Buxton running late?" Brains shook his head, checking the appointment schedule for Scott and Virgil.

"N-n-no. S-s-she hasn't been to c-c-check-up on you?" Scott sighed wearily.

"No. And Virg is still with that other doctor…he's been a while…" Brains glanced back at the appointment schedule and frowned.

"Uh V—V-Virgil isn't supposed to have an a-a-appointment today…" Scott shrugged.

"Well, one of the nurses came here and took him for his appointment. Maybe you should check with Doctor Buxton?" Scott watched carefully as Brains brow furrowed deeper.

"W-W-What was the d-d-doctor's name?" he asked. Scott could see Brains trying to hide the apprehension he obviously felt.

"Uh…I don't know…Doctor…R- something…Rubin, I think."

"B-B-But there isn't a-a-anyone here with that name." Instantly Scott pushed himself out of his hospital bed. Brains took his arm gently.

"T-T-There's ah…probably been s-s-some kind of…uh…m-m-misunderstanding," Brains tried to ease Scott's worry, although he had his own concerns. Pavi was professional, she never ran late and if there had been a delay, she would have asked Brains to do the check-up. Scott noticed Brains hesitation and quickly made his way down the corridor, Brains running to catch up with him as they took their staircase down one floor to where Doctor Buxton's office was located.

"Which one, Brains?" Scott asked.

"Ah…t-t-the uh…third one," Brains said as Scott broke into a run, hurrying to reach the door, an unknown fear driving him on.

"Scott!" Brains called as Scott banged his fist against the door, trying to peer through the metal blinds that obscured the window.

"I-I-I h-h-have a key," Brains said, brushing Scott aside and quickly opening the door. At first it appeared the room was empty, but at Brains short gasp, Scott noticed the crumpled body beside the large wooden desk.

"Doctor?" Scott asked, making his way towards her. He swallowed thickly as he noticed the bruising around her neck. He knew she was dead as he felt for a pulse and was not surprised when he couldn't find one. He glanced over at Brains who had already guessed that they'd lost her.

He turned away abruptly, making his way out of the office, calling to the two security guards at the end of the corridor. They jogged to the office, listening intently as Brains explained what happened. He waited until the guards had entered the office before removing his glasses to wipe a stray tear. Scott followed him out of the office, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Brains," he offered. Brains turned to him, eyes crystalline with tears.

"Why would s-s-someone do this?" he asked, looking helplessly at Scott.

"You don't think this is to try and get to me and Virgil…" Scott trailed off, his gentle reassuring touch turning to a tight grip on Brains' arm.

"S-S-Scott?"

"Virgil…oh God…"


	19. Bring Them Home

_Thanks again to all those who have been reading, reviewing and adding to your alert lists! Warnings for some strong language in this chapter._

Between the yells of the guards calling for more security, the wail of alarms, Scott yelling to his brother was never going to be heard. Scott clattered through every office door in the corridor, until he found one that was locked.

"Virgil! You in there?" he yelled, banging the palm of his hand against the varnished wood. He felt hands taking hold of his shoulders, pulling him back from the doorway as two beefy security guards, armed with a battering ram took up position in front of the door.

It took matter of seconds to open the door, swinging open violently and crashing against metallic filing cabinets.

Scott was the first through the door, the sounds disturbing the one person inside the room. They got to their feet, edging back uncertainly.

"Virgil!" Scott stepped in front of his brother, who stood stiffly, backing into the desk behind him. He seemed in a daze until Scott placed a hand against his shoulder. Virgil blinked suddenly, edging back from Scott uncertainly.

"What the hell happened?" Scott asked him. Virgil looked around him before shaking his head slowly.

"I was speaking to the Doctor…" Virgil trailed off, looking around the darkened office and frowning in confusion.

"W-W-Which Doctor, Virgil?" Brains asked him. Virgil looked lost, struggling to recall even the past few moments, never mind his whole appointment. He could hardly remember that at all. And he had a painful headache, stabbing pains above his left eye.

"I don't know Brains," he said finally, opening his eyes to see Scott watching him, not even bothering to hide his concerned look.

"You don't look so good, Virg. Are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm fine," Virgil replied instantly, waving away Brains' who looked ready to perform a check-up there and then. Scott fixed his best authoritarian look on his younger brother, who returned his best 'I'm fine' look.

"L-L-Let's get you…uh…b-b-back to the ward," Brains said softly, breaking the silence. Scott placed a hand on Virgil's back as he took his first steps out into the corridor, barely hiding a flinch when Virgil shrugged it away.

"Can you call Dad?" Scott asked Brains. "I think we need to hurry our discharge through. I don't think it's safe here anymore."

"Stating the obvious," Virgil mumbled as he slumped down into his hospital bed, rubbing his fingers across his forehead. He opened his eyes to see Scott watching him closely.

"I've got a headache that's all," Virgil relented finally.

"So you're not as ok as you said."

"It's a headache," Virgil repeated flatly, his brown eyes giving Scott a silent warning that his field commander role was not going to help. Scott relented, holding his hands up and sitting down on his bed, keeping a wary eye on his brother.

"Can the guards review security camera footage?" he asked, glancing towards Brains who hovered uneasily in the doorway, the last hour having tugged him through so many different emotions, he felt mentally and physically drained.

"I-I-I will ask," he replied. "B-B-But first we need to uh…get you b-b-back home."

XXXXXX

After speaking with Scott and Virgil and reassuring himself that they were safe and well, Jeff contacted Sir Jeremy, hoping he would be able to use his contacts to get Scott and Virgil safely to the airport and flown home. He'd go out there himself to collect them if that's what it took to ensure they were safe.

"I want my boys back here," Jeff insisted. "We have appropriate medical facilities to deal with taking care of Virgil and Scott."

"Understood," Sir Jeremy replied.

"And I'll know they are safe. Do we have any idea of how the man gained access to the area?"

"I've spoken with security and none of the men could tell me what had happened. They didn't remember seeing anyone unusual or unexpected enter the corridor."

"But you said yourself that there were, four or five named doctors and this man…Doctor Rubin, I think Virgil said, he was not one of them."

"That's the strange thing. The guards new the names and faces of the four named doctors. They should never have let this man pass, but they did…and if you have a look at the security footage, there was no forced entry, the man simply chatted with the guards and then they let him pass."

"This doesn't make any sense…" Jeff trailed off, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. "Well, thank you Sir Jeremy. I really appreciate all your help."

"It was my pleasure Jeff. Please keep in touch. Let me know how Scott and Virgil are getting on." Jeff closed the window on his computer screen to end the conversation before glancing towards Kyrano who hovered in the corner of the office, looking busy preparing coffee, but Jeff knew he'd been listening intently to every word of the conversation.

"You think it was Belah Gaat, don't you?" Jeff asked him. Kyrano remained silent.

"There is no way those guards would have allowed someone else entry," Jeff continued. "You heard Sir Jeremy, there was no violence involved, he simply spoke to the guards and passed."

"There are few others who would be able to trick highly trained guards to get access to a restricted area," Kyrano said after a moment. Jeff made a small noise of agreement, running his thumb across his chin thoughtfully.

"You've spoken to me about this…ability your half-brother has before. He's used this mind control, or whatever you want to call it, to get to Scott and Virgil again. He made those guards believe he was one of the authorised doctors treating them."

"Yes, I believe so."

"So how do we keep them safe…keep all of us safe if he is able to manipulate even the most trustworthy of people…" Jeff trailed off, looking to Kyrano for some advice, some reassurance that there was a way to protect themselves against his half-brother.

"Bringing Scott and Virgil back here is the best idea."

"Well, it's a start," Jeff agreed.

XXXXXXXXX

John had been the lucky brother who had been given the task of flying Scott and Virgil home. He stood beside the family private jet, hands shoved into the depths of his jeans as he watched the car pull up on the tarmac beside him.

Brains emerged first, nodding and smiling his greeting to John before helping Scott and Virgil out from the car, giving Virgil an extra warning about straining the fresh stitching on his back.

John watched his older brothers making their way towards him and quickly blinked back the tears that clouded his vision. After months of worry, they'd made it back. Although, it was with growing concern that John noted the change in the look of his brothers. Both were pale and had lost a lot of weight. Scott's face looked sharper, more angular, while Virgil's usually broad shoulders looked shrunken. He seemed much frailer, unwillingly accepting a steadying arm from Scott as they walked the short distance to the plane. It was clear he was still in a lot of pain.

The moment John met their eyes, he could see the relief in them that finally the ordeal looked to be over. Somehow they had made it out of their jungle prison and were about to return him. John offered them a lopsided smile before stepping forward. He delicately hugged first Scott, then Virgil, letting all of the tension and stress that had filled him since they'd disappeared those months before out in a long sigh.

"It's good to see you guys," John said softly.

"You have no idea how good it is to see you John," Scott replied, Virgil echoing his sentiments with a smile. They made their way gingerly up the steps into the jet, John ensuring they were both settled before he and Brains made their way to the cockpit.

XXXXXXX

The brothers took the opportunity of the flight home to discuss what had happened in the hospital with Sir Jeremy.

"I had no idea how this could have happened," Sir Jeremy told them. "The security guards assured me that no one other than the authorised personnel had access to you. If anything had happened…" Sir Jeremy trailed off, but Scott quickly waved away his concern.

"We're both ok," he assured the older man. "We're just as determined as you to find out how this happened." Sir Jeremy was about to share his thoughts when there was a shrill ring tone.

"Ah, excuse me gentlemen. This is Ethan calling, my agent in South East Asia. Would you mind staying on the line? Perhaps he has information of use to you?"

Scott and Virgil listened to the exchange of pleasantries between Sir Jeremy and Ethan as Virgil opened the packet of mixed nuts John had provided for them as their in-flight meal.

"We ate better than this in the jungle," Virgil muttered, picking up a tiny peanut and popping it into his mouth. Scott took a handful and smiled.

"Not long until Grandma's cooking…you think she made me a Pecan Pie?"

"I hope so. I'm going to be starving after this pitiful meal." They were interrupted by Sir Jeremy.

"Ethan says he was at the hospital and saw a strange man outside…he wonders if he might be linked to this Doctor Rubin you spoke about."

"What did he look like?" Sir Jeremy asked Ethan. Scott and Virgil unconsciously edged forward, closer to the screen. They heard Ethan's voice, similar clipped English tones to Sir Jeremy.

"The man was tall…and bald. I don't think he had any hair on his head at all. That's the first thing I noticed. But then he looked at me…and as crazy as this sounds…his eyes were…I think the word I want to use is haunting…"

"Fuck, that's him," Virgil said suddenly, his fingers gripping Scott's wrist without realising. Scott glanced at his wrist and back at Virgil, his mind returning to the moment he'd battered into the office and found Virgil looking almost lost, afraid of something. Suddenly Virgil's words about being unable to remember the Doctor, even what they had been talking about filled him with dread.

On the screen, Sir Jeremy was continuing his conversation with the agent in South East Asia, asking him who it was that Belah had been speaking to.

"He was speaking to a doctor…she was young, tanned, long dark hair…"

"That sounds a lot like Doctor Buxton," Scott whispered. "Shit, she was in on this whole thing…she set us up." The rest of Sir Jeremy's conversation washed over them and they digested the information Ethan had passed to them. Scott made their excuses to end the conversation with Sir Jeremy, before reaching over to close the screen on the laptop.

The two brothers sat in silence for a moment before Virgil turned to Scott.

"We can't tell Brains." Scott rubbed his eye with the base of his palm and nodded.

"I know," Scott agreed. "She's gone, we're safe, it doesn't need mentioned." They slipped back into an uneasy silence, filled with apprehension and worry at the new information they had gained from Sir Jeremy. Scott glanced at Virgil, relegated to pushing the mixed nuts around the plastic table absentmindedly.

"It feels like we're not safe anywhere we go. And how do we know who we can trust?" Scott commented after a moment. Virgil glanced up at him, a wry smile on his face.

"Hasn't it always been like that since the Hood appeared?" Scott sighed, shoulders slumping and his gaze flickering away from Virgil and towards the window.

"He nearly got to you again and I wasn't there…" Virgil reached over about to place a reassuring hand on Scott's own, but fell short.

"There was nothing you could have done, Scott," Virgil said quietly. Scott turned to look at him, eyes fierce in his desperation. Scott wasn't someone who dealt with an unknown threat well. He wanted to be sure his colleagues, his family were safe.

"But what happens when he tries again…goes after you, or John, or Gordon…" Virgil looked away, not wanting to crush Scott with another miserable 'there's nothing you can do' comment. It wasn't what Scott wanted, or needed to hear.

"We just have to make sure that doesn't happen," Virgil said after a moment's thought. Scott looked as though he was about to continue with his doubts and worries when the speaker above them crackled into life and John's jaunty voice spoke up.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to make our final descent into Tracy Island. The weather today is a balmy twenty five degrees and the sun is splitting the sky. Thank you for flying Tracy Airlines, we hope you enjoy your stay."

Virgil watched Scott try and fail to hide a smile. They all enjoyed the opportunity to place airline pilot when their father was not on board.

"And we didn't even get to watch the inflight entertainment," Virgil sighed, glancing out of the window, watching the green, blues and whites of the islands features getting closer.

Home, sweet home.

XXXXXXX

Grandma and Kyrano had outdone themselves preparing an extravagant feast to celebrate Scott and Virgil's return. The occupants of Tracy Island gathered around the long dining table, usually reserved for special occasions. Jeff took his place at the head of the table, his eyes passing over the table occupants with a smile.

Grandma was helping Virgil pick out the largest and crispiest of her roast potatoes, Virgil smiling at Gordon's indignation. Scott was teasing Alan about only having a few hours left piloting Thunderbird One and that usually service would have resumed by tomorrow morning. It was almost like everything was back to normal.

"I'd like to propose a toast," Jeff said, lifting his glass and standing up. A silence descended over the table and beside him, Scott shifted uncertainly as Jeff gave him a warm smile.

"For the past three months we have all suffered in one way or another. It has probably been the worst situation that our organisation has ever faced." There were solemn nods from most of the family members, Scott and Virgil remained almost frozen, their eyes watching Jeff with a look of apprehension.

"I want to thank those of you that are here now for managing to continue to work, continue to live and to support one another while we faced a terrifying situation. Gordon, you proved yourself to be headstrong and brave when it mattered. John, you were a calm voice during some very difficult rescues. Alan, you managed to step up to a position that is tough and stressful and your older brother had perfected. Well done."

The three brothers smiled shyly, glancing towards Scott and Virgil.

"Brains, I can't ever thank you enough for what you did," Jeff said. "You are not only a great friend, but a part of this family." Brains blushed, looking towards the smiles of agreement from all five Tracy brothers.

"Finally, Scott and Virgil…" Jeff paused, coughing to clear his voice breaking. "I think I speak for everyone when I say it's wonderful to have you back here."

XXXXXXXXX

Virgil sat on the balcony, pushing the crust of his apple pie around his plate with his fork. His eyes shimmered in the fading daylight and Scott was about to step back inside, giving Virgil the privacy to express his emotions when he glanced up at him, throwing him a half smile.

"Hey," he said, his voice a little croaky. He placed his plate down and shuffled further along the bench to create a space for Scott to sit.

"Hi," Scott moved towards his brother, sitting next to him on the bench. They sat together in silence for a moment, similar to the hours they would sit side by side watching Belah ordering his 'workers', preparing themselves for whatever next faced them. Scott felt watching the leaves of the palm trees fluttering in the breeze and listening to the soft roar of the waves pushing onto the island shores was a much better view. Scott felt, rather than heard, Virgil sighing deeply and he glanced at his brother's slumped shoulders.

"You okay?" Scott asked.

"Just a bit tired," Virgil replied with a weary smile. "What about you?"

"Stuffed full of pecan pie," they shared a small smile before Scott took another sip of his orange juice. "Glad to be home." Virgil glanced at him and nodded in agreement.

"Yeah. Me too."

"It's not over though, is it?" Scott said after a pause. Virgil sighed again The reappearance of Belah Gaat at the hospital had unsettled him, the false safety they felt that had attained after escaping the forest had been shattered when Virgil had looked up at Belah standing before him.

He could only wish he knew what had happened after that.

Scott was right. Their ordeal was not yet finished.


	20. Time to Heal

_Hope you've all had a great Christmas. Thanks again to all readers and reviewers!_

The runway shimmered in the South Pacific heat as Parker guided their plane into land. She could see Jeff and Gordon standing on the balcony of the lounge, ready to greet them. As she stepped out from the plane, Jeff greeted her with a polite handshake and kiss on the cheek, Gordon was more informal with a strong hug.

"How are they?" she asked Jeff as Gordon helped Parker with her luggage. Jeff managed a half shrug as they began to walk slowly up the runway towards the stairway to the balcony.

"Well, they are alive," he said, "but they are still recovering. Kyrano's prepared some tea, if you would like?"

"There is nothing nicer after a long flight, but…" Penelope trailed off, lowering her eyes demurely.

"What's wrong?" Jeff asked gently, placing a hand against her shoulder and leading her towards the villa. Penelope glanced up, her cheeks unusually flushed as she cleared her throat awkwardly.

"I'd like to see him…if that is ok?" she said quietly.

"Him?" Jeff asked, before catching Penelope's slightly pleading look. "Oh…Virgil, right." He smiled understandingly as they quickened their pace towards the villa.

"He…he has quite a few injuries that Brains is still treating," Jeff told her, wondering how much she knew about Virgil's condition and how he had sustained the wounds that still required daily treatments.

"Sir Jeremy mentioned what had happened…although he was a little vague on the details," she smiled knowingly, her imagination having filled in the blanks in his information.

"He and Scott are also taking some time to adjust to normality again," Jeff continued. "They both avoid any conversation about what happened, their injuries…all Scott talks about is getting back to work…I normally would be delighted of course, but I worry they are just burying what happened and not really dealing with it at all."

"I wonder where they got that from," Penelope commented quietly. Jeff glanced at her and half smiled.

"You know, that's exactly what my mother said too." There was a moment of silence before Jeff gestured towards the infirmary.

"He's all yours."

XXXXXX

Virgil was enduring another dressing change from Tin Tin and Brains when Penelope entered the Infirmary. She winced in sympathy as Brains gingerly touched one of the scars. The first thing she noted was that he looked drawn, his eyes sunken and his mouth turned down in a frown. He'd lost a lot of weight. Virgil had always been very broad, very strong, but he looked much weaker, much frailer. It caught her off guard.

"Any pain?" Brains asked him. Virgil shook his head quickly before his eyes flickered towards his visitor. Penelope smiled softly, but it slipped as he glanced away, looking almost questioningly towards Brains. After a moment, Brains placed a reassuring hand on Virgil's shoulder, before collecting his medical equipment and leaving the room.

"Virgil, how are you?" Penelope asked, taking a small step towards him. He didn't reply and she eased into the chair beside his bed. He remained staring at the white tiles of the ceiling above him.

He glanced at her as she folded her hands in her lap, giving him a stern look.

"You look tired," she commented after a moment. He closed his eyes over, as though fed up with her small talk. She sighed, looking at the Tracy brother she thought she could fall in love with.

"I am," he said pointedly, after a moment. She licked her lips, a nervous gesture, reaching out to place her hand over his. He eased his hand away, shaking his head slowly.

"Virgil..."

"You want small talk? Did you really think I would be ready to just get back to normal? I've got six fucking bullet holes in my back! Nothing can be normal now!" Penelope tucked her blonde hair behind her ear demurely and fixed a cool gaze on Virgil.

"Do you have any idea what happened here? Your father had to hear from Sir Jeremy that you might not make it to the hospital! John had to listen to the running commentary of the US troops when you were rescued. I had to hear all the gory details of the torture methods this terror group inflicted on their prisoners! I know things are not normal Virgil, but you can't just shut me out...you can't shut any of us out..."

She thought she had done well to keep composed, but flinched as Virgil reached out to wipe a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb. His hand lingered against her soft cheek, caressing it momentarily before he dropped his hand back down onto the pristine white sheets.

"I'm not...I'm sorry Penny, I just..." He paused, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. She smiled softly as he glanced back at her, his deep eyes softening and a glimmer of a smile crossing his face.

"I thought about you…especially when I needed something pleasant to think about…" He looked a little embarrassed at having confessed this, but Penelope smiled warmly. It was almost like it was before, a shy little smile and a slight colouring of his cheeks as he confessed his true feelings for their relationship. She squeezed his hand softly, leaning towards him, pressing her forehead against his, closing her eyes as she felt his fingers brush against the back of her neck.

"I know you need some time…" Penelope said finally. "All I wanted to do was tell you that I'd be ready, when you are…" She pulled back, kissing his forehead softly. She stepped back, letting his hand fall to the white sheets on the bed, turning and leaving the infirmary. Virgil watched her go, golden hair swishing from side to side and wondered when he'd turned into the kind of person that made Penelope cry.

XXXXXX

Jeff and Penelope took their tea on the balcony after her brief visit to the infirmary. Her strained smile told Jeff that things hadn't gone entirely smoothly.

"He seems..." Penelope stopped, searching for a word.

"Cold," Jeff finished for her, smiling sadly as she considered his word for a moment before nodding.

"Yes."

"Scott is just the same," Jeff added. "He and Virgil seem normal with each other, but it's like they both have this front up, the hardened exterior to stop anyone seeing how difficult they are finding it dealing with what happened." Penelope sipped her tea, brushing aside a blonde curl caught by the soft breeze.

"It's a man thing, particularly a Tracy man," she told him frankly, catching his slightly shocked look. "Don't give me that look. You know I am right." Jeff chuckled despite himself and nodded.

"I know," he agreed after a moment. "We are supposed to be the brave heroes of the day, risking life and limb without a care in the world…we're not supposed to get scared or upset…angry, yes…frustrated, sometimes, but never sad, never scared…"

"Or if you do, you don't show it," Penelope added. "Isn't that what we all do Jeff? It comes with our jobs, whether it is on the frontline at rescues or behind the scenes here or in Five."

"They are still in there somewhere," Penelope said after a moment. "There are glimmers of the Virgil I remember lurking under the insolent front he tried to fool me with…it will take time Jeff, but they will come through. You've raised some wonderful sons and I don't think there is anything they couldn't deal with."

XXXXXXX

The soft sand was warm against his bare feet as Scott began his second lap along the beach. He could feel the tiny grains of golden sand grazing the back of his bare legs as he pushed himself to run even faster. Gordon had taught him the power of switching off to everything else and timing laps. Gordon could often be found swimming relentlessly back and forth after a hard rescue.

John had told Scott, with something of a sad smile, that thanks to their ordeal in Malaysia, Gordon had knocked three seconds off his personal best.

Virgil had his piano, Gordon had swimming and Scott had his beach running.

He's always enjoyed running. Even when running from the guards in the rainforest, he'd felt the same adrenaline pounding through his veins, he'd enjoyed the chase, the feeling of outrunning his captors.

He closed his eyes as he pushed himself forward, feeling the taut muscles in his legs screaming in protest. His breathing was harsh, catching in his throat. His eyes watered as he felt his side spasm in a sudden cramp and he was forced to stagger to a halt, bent over, hands on his knees.

His legs trembled in the aftermath of the exertion and he let himself slip to the sand, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to stretch out the stiffness in his legs.

With his eyes closed, the lingering memories of the dash through the wild jungle vegetation replayed behind his eyelids. The sounds of his shouts of encouragement to Virgil, the irate yells and protests from the guards from the camp, furious at their successful escape.

Scott felt his breathing increase, his chest tighten as in his mind, he heard Virgil's shout, the guards catching up with one of them.

He couldn't help the short moan that passed between his lips, which was quickly followed by the coffee and roll he'd eaten at breakfast time, his stomach groaning in protest to the force he'd subjected his body to.

He was in the midst of a second bout of nausea when he felt a strong hand against the tense muscles of his back.

He knew it wasn't Virgil, even if that was the one person he would have hoped for in this situation. Unwillingly, he let the hands guide him back, until he was sitting back against a brother.

"It'd be stupid for me to tell you that run was not a good idea." Scott wearily opened his eyes, the blondest and palest of the brothers leaning over him and handing him a bottle of water. Scott sat up, opening the bottle and taking a slug to clear his mouth of the stinging acid of his vomit.

"You can't push yourself too hard, Scott," John said. "You are still recovering remember." Scott pushed himself to his feet, using an adjacent palm tree to steady himself as he cast a critical gaze towards the villa.

"I'm fine," Scott snapped, pulling his elbow from John's gentle grip and beginning to limp back along the beach.

"You've hurt yourself," John said to his retreating back.

"I told you, I'm fine!" Scott argued, not bothering to turn around. John sighed wearily, leaning against the palm tree as he kept a careful eye on Scott's slow progress back to the house before lifting his wrist communicator and trying Gordon.

"How did you get on with Scott?" Gordon asked him as soon as he answered.

"Terrible. He basically told me to piss off and managed to pull a muscle in his leg when he did that beach run."

"He can be a real charmer," Gordon grinned. "Well, let's try phase two."

"What's phase two?"

"Operation try Virgil."

"Phase one was operation try Scott then?" John asked, not bothering to hide a smile as Gordon nodded. "Well, it was a failure on all accounts. Good luck." He gave Gordon a mock salute, with Gordon returned with a laugh before they ended their transmission.

John lowered his arm as he saw Scott finally reaching the end of the beach and making his way up the stairs towards the swimming pool. He brushed aside the concerns of Tin Tin and Alan who were lounging at the side of the pool, instead making his way inside and John imagined, to the infirmary where Brains was preparing to discharge Virgil.

"He's been a real a-hole since he and Virg got back here," Alan muttered as John reached the poolside, pulling up a plastic chair beside his youngest brother.

"Well, they've been through a lot," John said, playing the peacemaker.

"What have they been through though? They've never spoken about it, they didn't even answer the questions that Sir Jeremy asked them." John remained silent, having had a long conversation with their father about their unwillingness to discuss anything that had happened between their disappearance and rescue. Four weeks in captivity that they were both trying and failing to forget.

"You keep that kind of feeling inside, it's not going to go away," Alan said finally. "You know who told me that?"

"Who?" John asked him.

"Scott. Hypocrite." John sighed and got to his feet, handing Alan his garish Hawaiian shirt with a half smile.

"Give them time. It's only been a few weeks since they got back."

"Well someone needs to get them to move on. Talk about what happened and then get on with their lives."

XXXXXXX

The piano sonata coming from the lounge was sorrowful and almost awkward. Gordon had no doubt it came from a dark place in Virgil's mind, the same morbid darkness that had almost consumed him in the weeks since he and Scott had returned to them. He hovered in the doorway, watching Virgil hunched over the piano, picking out disjointed melodies. He stopped suddenly, before playing a slightly jovial tune. Gordon knew he had been spotted and breathed a sigh that Virgil still had some humour.

"You look like shit," Gordon half smiled as Virgil took the glass of water and white pills from him.

"Well thanks," Virgil smiled, swallowing the pills with a small mouthful of water obediently. Gordon hovered uncertainly before Virgil spoke again.

"I checked Thunderbird 2 for scratches." Gordon raised his eyebrows, inviting his brother's criticism.

"You and Al did a great repair job, huh?"

"Whatever Virg, you should have seen me handle her. Like a pro!" Virgil chuckled.

"So things were ok here?"

"Fine," Gordon smiled, "but we had it easy compared with you and Scott," a half smile and attempt to make light of the situation fell flat. Virgil's smile slid from his face and he glanced away, his eyes flickering almost nervously.

"Yeah." Virgil's gaze returned to the window, but Gordon wasn't sure he was seeing the same soothing view of the golden sands, the last of the day's sunlight glistening on the ocean.

"Virg...do you and Scott ever talk about it?" Virgil looked back at his brother and gave him a wry smile.

"What do you think?"

"He's keeping it all inside Virg, it's not good." Gordon sighed, knowing that as much as it would hurt him, Virgil was the only one who could get through to Scott.

"I know," Virgil acknowledged with a half shrug before turning back to his piano, coaxing a short scale from the keys.

"Maybe you should talk to him about it. It might help…" Gordon began, but stopped as Virgil turned to look at him.

"I guess I don't really want to talk about it either..."

XXXXXXX

Kyrano's peaceful domain was soothing, gentle. Virgil could smell some sort of incense in the air and almost felt relaxed.

Complete ease was hindered by the subject matter Kyrano wished to discuss with him. He sat on one of the pillows on the floor, waiting for Kyrano to join him, admiring the golden statues adoring the shelves.

Scott couldn't shift the worry in his stomach that Kyrano had been asked by their father to provide some sort of therapeutic discussion for the two brothers. He scratched at the back of his neck anxiously as he took a pillow, sitting next to Virgil.

"Are you feeling better Mr. Virgil, Mr. Scott?" he began by asking. Virgil eyed him wearily, tired of hearing the same questions over and over. Scott quickly nodded.

"Yeah," he sighed after a moment. Kyrano raised his eyebrows before nodding.

"The same old questions yes?"

"A bit," Virgil smiled. "Kyrano...is there a reason you asked us here?"

"Yes. A very important reason...I know some of what you went through during your abduction..." Virgil visibly stiffened, his eyes flickering nervously between Scott and Kyrano.

"What?" Scott asked, his eyes widening, sitting forward to study the aged man before him. Kyrano continued as though Scott had not interrupted him.

"Scott, I know you thought Virgil was dead...he made you believe Virgil was dead. You looked into his eyes..."

"No." Scott quickly got to his feet, unable to even look into the wide eyes of his closest brother. Kyrano remained calm, watching Scott as he shook his head.

"This is bullshit," he said, pointing an accusing finger in Kyrano's direction. "I'm not staying here to listen to you imagine what might have happened in some rubbish attempt to get me and Virgil talking about an experience we'd rather forget about. Virg, you coming?" Virgil glanced up at Scott, but curiosity was beginning to get the better of him and his eyes slid back to look at Kyrano.

"How do you...?" Virgil asked, but stopped as Kyrano gazed at him, looking almost serene that he had told someone.

"Virgil..." Scott stopped, his exit from the room abandoned as Kyrano spoke his next words.

"Belah Gaat...is my half-brother..."

"Shit..." Virgil trailed off, placing his head in his hands and listening to his amplified breathing for a moment. Scott let out something between a groan and a sigh, reluctantly taking his place next to Virgil. Kyrano stayed silent, sitting back on his cushion and exhaling softly.

"He can do...things...with people's minds," Virgil began, hesitating as Kyrano closed his eyes. There was a long silence before Kyrano responded.

"Yes."

"One of the men there...they told me this. They said he was a demon. I looked into his eyes and I...he did things, he saw things, made me see things as I dreamt..." Virgil trailed off as Scott glanced at him, Virgil speaking about what had happened for the first time since they'd been rushed, battered, bleeding and broken to a hospital. Virgil looked at him, his eyes giving away the fear he'd gone through as Belah taunted him. Scott glanced back at Kyrano, reaching for Virgil's hand unconsciously as he spoke of the moments Kyrano had mentioned.

"He made me believe Virgil was dead...I knew he wasn't...I'd know if Virgil was dead, but he made me think...made me want to die because I thought Virgil had..." Scott stopped, his breath catching in his chest as he felt the same panic surging through him, the same senseless grief that had flooded him. Beside him, Virgil squeezed his brother's hand, a gentle reminder that they had made it home and were in a much safer place.

"He studied the mind...he knows how to manipulate the senses..."

"Like hypnotism?" Virgil asked.

"Much more than that Virgil...it is more sophisticated...it is almost..."

"Like reading minds...mind control..." Virgil trailed off, looking sceptical for a moment.

"Some have this ability...you and Scott, yes? Scott said he would know if you were alive or not..." Scott frowned.

"Yeah, but that's just brothers...isn't it?"

"I knew what was happening to you both...I would wake with such clear visions that I could have been watching you myself...I saw Scott's illness, I saw you talking about what you would most want, I saw you, Virgil, telling Belah about your designs...giving away your own past to save Scott..."

Virgil flinched and Kyrano stopped, giving Virgil a moment. He understood Virgil's lingering guilt over giving the Hood some information about his involvement in designing the technology. Belah could find any weakness. Virgil's was Scott. Scott's was Virgil. He'd known that long before he had abducted them. Scott glanced at Virgil, half disappointed that he'd told Belah something, but understanding that if he'd been promised that Virgil would be saved, he'd have done exactly the same.

Virgil pressed his lips together before clearing his throat.

"So...Belah Gaat...The Hood, he is still alive?"

"Very much so...I am sorry to say," Kyrano responded solemnly. Virgil turned away, chewing on his fingernail, his face showing a momentary panic. Scott growled below his breath, a sudden anger and determination to find and remove Belah Gaat from their lives.

"What about the information I gave him? Did he get any more from me?" Virgil's voice held a note of panic that Scott found more worrying than anything else they had spoken about with Kyrano.

"He will store it for future use I am sure."

"I gave in to him..."

"No, you saved my life," Scott interrupted, placing his hand against the back of Virgil's head, forcing him to look at him. Virgil's features still showed guilt, but he managed a thankful smile at his older brother. Scott turned back to Kyrano.

"So...do you know where he is? What he is doing right now?"

"No. There are only some moments where I can...see him. He wanted me to see what was happening, he knows of our connection..."

"So what happens now?" Virgil asked him.

"We wait..."


	21. Business as Usual

_Apologies for the delay, this chapter turned into something completely different over the last few days! Thank you as always for the regular reviews. _

Weeks passed into months and some sense of normality settled over the Tracy household. Scott and Virgil were in much better health, both physically and mentally. Brains had cleared them both for duty and they'd been glad to return to the family business. Jeff did wonder if his sons happened to be particularly good at hiding their true thoughts from him. If so, they were doing an amazing job.

Rescues came and went. Bruised ribs for Alan, dislocated shoulder for Gordon and numerous cuts and bruises for Scott and Virgil. Just another day at the office.

Kyrano's presence in the aftermath of Scott and Virgil's abduction had been soothing, almost as though his very being would protect them from further interference from Belah Gaat, who had revealed himself as the perpetrator of some of South East Asia's more violent terror attacks. He'd remained under the radar for a while, but Jeff was sure they hadn't heard the last of Belah Gaat.

XXXXXXXX

As Kyrano prepared the vegetables for his stir fry, he saw Virgil making his way into the lounge and taking his place at the piano, lifting the lid and resting his fingers on the keys. Kyrano smiled, he was fond of the relaxing properties the piano held for Virgil and his family. Virgil slowly began to pick out a melody on the keys, his brow furrowing in concentration.

Kyrano was surprised to find he was able to hum along with the piano.

The music was familiar to him, from many years before and he paused in slicing peppers momentarily as he recalled exactly where he had heard the piece.

He placed down his kitchen knife and looked towards Virgil, who was hunched over the keys, developing the simple melody into a more elaborate piece of music.

"That's it…" he heard Virgil say with a small smile as he began playing the piece from the start, glancing up as he saw Kyrano hovering in the doorway.

"Sorry Kyrano, did I disturb you?" he asked. Kyrano shook his head quickly.

"Tell me Virgil, where did you find this piece of music?" he asked him. Virgil shrugged with a half smile, pressing the notes his fingers rested on to create a soft chord.

"It just kinda came into my head earlier today. Why?"

"No reason. It is…a very pretty melody," Kyrano finished after a moment, returning to the kitchen and to preparing his vegetables.

His mind was troubled. The melody Virgil was playing, the melody he recognised and could hum along to, had been one that his step father had shared with him and his half-brother, Belah.

So how on earth would Virgil know such a tune?

XXXXXXXX

Scott had already been up and taken an early morning job when John called in a rescue at seven-thirty the next morning. Scott, John and his father were discussing the rescue when Virgil joined them, tugging on a battered t-shirt over sleep mussed hair.

"Morning Virgil," Jeff said to him, gesturing to the mug of coffee on his desk. Virgil gave him a thankful look, cupping his hands around the mug as John relayed the details of the rescue to them.

"Construction on the largest skyscraper in the world had to be halted due to high wind warnings. However, the structure wasn't secured correctly and some of the metal framework came loose, crashing into the smaller officer blocks below."

"Jeez," Scott muttered as Jeff pulled up live footage from one of the local news stations.

What had previously been an impressive glass structure, filled with numerous offices for various high ranking companies had been torn in two by the steel girder crashing through it. Glass covered the ground, like tiny crystals, office workers clutched blood-stained bandages and cloths to their wounds as they were led, in a daze, away from the danger area.

"How many fatalities?" Jeff asked, turning back to John's grim expression on the screen.

"Too early to say…However, the authorities have called in our help to try and rescue some of the workers trapped in an underground complex. He didn't give many specifics I'm afraid."

"That's ok," Scott said confidently. "We can deal with it when we arrive."

"We'll need the Mole," Virgil added.

"All right boys," Jeff smiled. "Thunderbirds are go!"

XXXXXXXXX

On his arrival, Scott studied the panic that was written across the faces of the injured survivors, shrill voices asking about friends they had worked beside and if anyone had seen them. Scott watched a pretty girl looking around her in confusion, her bare feet covered in small cuts which left bloody footprints as she wandered between the rescued. Her pale cheeks shimmered with tears as she looked desperately around her at the faces obscured by open wounds and hastily applied bandages.

"Hey," Scott called out to her, taking her arm gently. "Are you okay? Are you injured?" The girl glanced at him, taking in his uniform before shaking her head.

"No…it's my sister…she works in the basement…I don't know if they have got her out…" She spoke in a soft accent, pushing back dishevelled curls from her face as Scott gestured to one of medics. The girl looked at Scott with wide, tearful eyes. Scott had seen the same expression of desperation all too often, fear and unknowing.

"Don't worry ma'am," Scott said in his most reassuring tones. "We're going to do our best to get everyone out of there." The girl smiled shakily in a silent thank you.

"I'm Amelie, my sister, she is Celine. Please…find her for me," she pleaded with him, her long fingers curling around his wrist. Scott glanced down at them and placed his own hand over hers momentarily.

"Amelie, I will do my best," Scott promised her.

"Thank you," she whispered as a paramedic attended to her injuries. Scott gave her a warm smile before heading towards the main doors of the lobby, taking one last glance over his shoulder at the girl, picking at the frayed edge of her dress anxiously.

All too often Scott had seen similar expressions. It didn't get any easier watching someone desperate for news on their family. He'd experienced the heart-stopping terror too many times himself.

From above, Scott could hear the tell-tale rumble of Thunderbird Two's engines, signalling Virgil's arrival. The green carrier hovered close to where Scott had landed, a car park the authorities had quickly emptied to accommodate their rescue craft.

"This is Thunderbird Two calling Scott."

"Hi Virgil," Scot replied. "You are clear to land."

"FAB. How does it look down there?"

"Uh, a bit chaotic, but I'm going to try and find someone who can give us details about the trapped workers," Scott said. "I'll see you there shortly."

"FAB," Virgil signed off. Scott made his way towards the Fire Crews, who had gathered in the office complex to try and remove debris and find any survivors who had been trapped. There were, what looked like hundreds of firemen, bustling around the rescue zone. Luckily, the fireman who had been designated co-ordinator of the rescue was quick to find Scott.

"Hey, International Rescue!" a deep voice called to him. "'Bout time you showed up!" Scott fixed a pleasant smile on his face before turning to face the tall man approaching him. He removed his dusty yellow helmet, tucking it under his arm as he extended his hand.

"Are you in charge here Sir?" Scott asked him, trying not to wince as the man crushed his hand in a strong handshake.

"As close as you can get," the man said. "I'm Hank."

"Uh, Scott," he introduced himself and hearing Virgil coming up behind him, introduced him to Hank.

"There are only two of you?" Hank asked, eyeing the two brothers sceptically. Scott opened his mouth to respond, but Virgil was quick to respond.

"And our equipment," Virgil put in, trying not to sound too defensive. Hank raised his eyebrows as Scott gave his brother a subtle nudge in his side.

"What's the situation here? What do you need us to do?" Scott quickly put in, casting Virgil a warning look.

"The fire crews here are managing to stabilise most of the debris to give us a chance to get people out from under it, but we've got workers trapped in their underground office suite. It's about four floors below ground." Scott and Virgil exchanged an understanding glance before Virgil made his way back to the pod, preparing the Mole for action.

"How many people are down there?" Scott asked Hank.

"The manager thought six or seven," he replied. "He wasn't particularly helpful…"

"And any injuries?" Scott asked.

"We can't be sure. We've not had any contact with them. Look, I've got to be honest. It's not looking too good for the folks trapped down there. Oxygen supplies will be running low…if they've not been crushed." Scott thought back to the girl he'd spoken to, Amelie and her worry for her sister.

"If these situations have taught me anything, it's never to give up," Scott said. "My colleague and I have equipment which will allow us to drill underground. Do you have any plans you could let us see to help establish their location?"

"Sure do. The owners of the building gave us these electronic schematics to help us." Hank pulled out a small memory stick, which Scott took with a smile and a curt nod.

"Thank you." Hank smiled, placing a hand on Scott's shoulder.

"No, thank you International Rescue."

XXXXXXXXXX

As Virgil programmed the drilling sequence, Scott plugged the memory stick into the Mole's USB port, studying the schematics carefully.

"The office complex is about twenty metres below the surface. Hank wasn't entirely optimistic about their chances of survival down there, but these plans show there are a number of beams securing the roof," Scott pointed out on the plans.

"Even so, with the weight of that huge structure crashing down…if the ceiling is still intact down there, it's probably going to be quite unstable, with the potential of coming down at any time," Virgil said softly, not really wanting to be the voice of reason when so much of what they accomplished went against reason.

"So we need to be in and out of there quick," Scott finished for them. "It's not like we've never had to do that before." Virgil turned back to the console in front of him, studying the underlying rock strata data that Brains had transferred to him.

"Brains, what are we looking at here in terms of geology?" Virgil asked the scientist who was following the progress of their rescue over his own earpiece.

"Mainly uh, b-b-basalt, some ah…s-s-small veins of m-m-more resistant quartzite are p-p-present which may slow you up a little," Brains responded quickly.

"FAB Brains," Scott said as the Mole began to tilt upwards slowly.

"Commencing drilling at 15 degrees," Virgil reported. "All systems are green." There was a short rumble as the huge drill began to penetrate the ground below them, kicking up shattered rock fragments and dust.

"Looks like a pretty straightforward route," Scott commented. "About another three minutes and we should be about there." They settled into a comfortable silence, the whirring of the machinery providing an accompaniment to their silence.

It was disturbed by a sharp beep from the control panel, followed by a warning message and a muttered expletive from both Scott and Virgil.

"Hmmm, it was never going to be that easy was it," Scott said as Virgil slowed the Mole.

"There's a metal wall up ahead," Virgil said as the Mole juddered to a halt. He cast a critical gaze at the schematics. "The whole basement must be encased it."

"Oxyhydnite it is then," Scott smiled. Brains' genius had developed the powerful gas which allowed even the most resistant material to be cut through with minimal effort. After a few false starts, namely the gas causing both Scott and Virgil to pass out during initial tests, Brains had perfected the formula. It had been a great addition to their arsenal of impressive machinery and equipment.

Positioning themselves in front of the metal wall they had exposed using the Mole, Scott began cutting his way through the wall, the flickering blue from the flame highlighting his concentrated features.

"It's pretty thick, but we should make it. Give me a bit more gas." Virgil complied, turning the valves carefully and allowing Scott to pick up the pace a little.

Scott cut the gas torch and handed it to Virgil who quickly stowed it in the Mole before joining Scott in kicking through to the office block. They stumbled through, not entirely sure what to expect after Fire Chief Hank's grim assessment of their chances of survival.

As their eyes adjusted to the dim emergency lighting, they were able to see a group of figures huddled in the middle of the open plan office space. Around them, shattered computer screens and broken ceiling tiles littered the floor. Severed wires sparked periodically, filling the dim space with flickers of light.

The roof of one corner of the office had caved in and Scott noticed a young woman, huddled close to it. The roof above them creaked ominously and Virgil and Scott exchanged a momentarily glance. They had to get everyone out, fast.

Eight pale, terrified faces met theirs before one of the workers got up, brushing down his creased white shirt.

"Thank God," he said, reaching out to shake the hands of his rescuers. "I told these guys we'd be 'alright with International Rescue helping out."

"We're glad to see everyone is in one piece here," Scott said, looking around as he and Virgil began to quickly assess the injuries to the workers. They were mainly superficial cuts and bruises.

"If everyone is ok, we can head back to the surface as quickly as possible," Scott told them. "We don't know how much longer these beams will hold."

"You have to help Céline, her arm is trapped," one of the women said, pointing to the youngest of the workers, curled up on the floor, her arm pinned in an awkward position under some debris. As Scott approached she managed to sit up a little, a short hiss of pain escaping from her lips.

"Careful, you don't want to make it worse," Scott warned her. Her teary blue eyes were wide as he knelt down beside her. He could feel her slight figure trembling against him.

"What's happening at the surface? Have they got everyone out?" she asked Scott as he checked the bruising on her free arm.

"The fire crews are doing that as we speak," Scott assured her as he looked in distain at the large beam which rested heavily on her other arm.

"Virg, I'm gonna need some help here," he called over his shoulder before returning to smile reassuringly at the girl. It didn't seem to have any soothing effect on her.

"My sister…she works on the third floor…" she said, bloody fingers gripping Scott's shirt tightly. She spoke in the same soft accent he had heard earlier at the rescue zone and smiled.

"Hey, she's Amelie? Short, brown curly hair…wearing a grey dress…" The girl's face lit up, all worry and concern for herself vanishing.

"Yes! Yes, that's her! Is she ok?"

"She's up there waiting for you. You must be Celine, right? Don't worry, as soon as we get this beam off you, we can get everyone back up there." Virgil walked towards him, clutching the Oxyhydnite canister in his hand.

"I'm going to cut it and we should be able to get rid of the smaller part between us," Virgil told him, handing both Scott and the girl protective goggles as he began cutting the metal.

"Any pain anywhere?" Scott asked Celine, keeping her distracted from the scorching flame travelling dangerously close to her skin.

"Just my arm," she said as the hissing of the flame stopped and Virgil pulled his goggles off.

"I think we're ready to go here," he said. Calling upon the other workers, they managed to manoeuvre the fallen beam and allow Virgil to have a closer look at her injuries as Scott led the others to the Mole to prepare them for their return trip.

He'd got the passengers settled when he heard the ear-piercing sound of metal twisting and a sickening groan from the ceiling above them.

"Hurry it up, Virgil!" Scott called, hovering in the makeshift doorway they had cut. He saw Virgil getting to his feet, helping Celine to her feet before running with her towards the opening.

"Come on!" Scott shouted, but it went unheard.

There was a sudden, sickening screech of metal giving way.

The beams above them had failed.

He heard Celine's scream before through the suffocating dust that the collapse kicked up, he saw Virgil shoving her towards Scott, clear of the debris. He reached out and grabbed hold of the thin material of Celine's shirt, pulling her through the opening and into his arms.

Virgil was in touching distance of safety when there was a rumble, a sound that began a crescendo to almost deafening levels.

It was the sound of hundreds of tonnes of concrete from above, caving in.

Caving in on top of Virgil.


	22. Something Unusual

_A quick update for you in time for the new year. Thank you for all your reviews and for continuing to read this story. I hope you enjoy this next installment!_

The noise began to fade and was instead filled with soft gasps of horror from the rescued workers and the whispering of material shifting in the destroyed office complex. Scott moved uncertainly towards the opening, placing his hand against the scarred metal casing.

There was no light in the office complex, the emergency lighting having given out. The Mole's headlights highlighted fractured concrete slabs and tangled metal beams filling the space in front of him. He moved back to the Mole, brushing past the workers and he pulled out a torch, moving back towards the opening and switching the industrial beam on. He swayed it back and forth across the ground and felt his stomach twisting into a knot slowly as he saw the extent of the damage the collapse had caused.

"Virgil?" he yelled out. "Virgil, can you hear me?" He glanced around as he felt someone touch his arm gently. He turned round to see Celine, her hand gripping the top of his arm as she peered through the dust to catch a glimpse of Virgil.

"Virgil!" Scott shouted, dust choking him as he moved through the opening, trying to balance on the undulating slabs.

There was no sign of Virgil. Behind him, the eight workers gathered uncertainly as Scott turned back to face them.

"I…uh…" he said, feeling utterly helpless until Celine stepped forward.

"We need to find him," she said, looking to the other workers who nodded in agreement. One man stepped forward.

"Do you have more torches?" he asked Scott. Scott licked his lips, trying to hold back the stinging of thankful tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks.

"Yeah, uh, in the Mole. In the cupboard at the back," he said, stepping into the debris and beginning to search the ground around him thoroughly, pushing back the voice in his head that told him they'd been too lucky in the past and this was where their good fortune had run out.

Minutes passed like hours as the workers and Scott peered in every crevice, every gap, looking for a glimpse of the bright blue uniform.

"This is Thunderbird Five calling Scott, do you copy?"

"John," Scott said simply, worried his voice would betray him if he said any more.

"Are you and Virgil okay? The fire crews up top say the rubble shifted significantly and they weren't sure what had happened down there," John said.

"Uh…yeah, the roof collapsed. The eight workers got out…" Scott looked at the carnage around him, rubbing his sleeve across his forehead, smearing the silver dust from the collapse across his face.

"And you got out…" John filled in, his mind filling in the blanks that Scott was leaving out.

"Virgil didn't," he finished bluntly. Scott swallowed thickly, clearing his throat and turning away from the workers, not wanting to unsettle them with his own worry and fear.

"Can you give me his last location?" Scott asked, his voice harsh in his anticipated grief. There was a pause as John called up the information.

"According to his GPS, you're on top of him, Scott," John said softly. Scott automatically leapt to the side, crouching down to where he could see a small gap where a concrete slab rested precariously against a mangled beam. Scott shone the beam into the dark crevice and a wide brown eye caught his.

"Virgil!" he called out, reaching his hand into the crevice and grabbing a hold of Virgil's hair, the only thing he could reach.

"I've found him!" he called to the workers. "Can you help me, we need to lift this slab." It took five of the workers and Scott to shift the concrete slab enough that it tumbled away and allowed Scott to get closer to Virgil.

"Virg…" Scott said, crouching down next to the small hole Virgil had taken shelter in, his bloody hands covered his head and he moved them cautiously as he heard Scott's voice. Wide brown eyes met slightly panicked blue ones and held their gaze silently, the look passing between them saying far more than their words ever could.

Scott held out his hand, which Virgil gripped tightly as Scott helped him to his feet, keeping his arm around him as his face paled and his knees buckled slightly as he took in the destruction around him.

"Lady Luck is on your side," one of the workers said as he stepped back allowing Scott and Virgil to make their way back to the Mole. Scott felt the ridges of Virgil's scars on his back and swallowed thickly. Once again they had survived an almost impossible situation.

"Guardian angels or something…" he heard one of the other workers comment and Virgil glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

"You okay?" Scott asked him in a low voice.

"I'll be fine. Let's just get to the surface," Virgil said with a pointed look at the eight rescued workers. Scott nodded, placing a hand on Virgil's shoulder. A simple touch, but between the two brothers it conveyed a wealth of feeling and emotion, Scott's relief at his brother being relatively unscathed and Virgil's thanks at Scott pulling him out of the collapsed remains.

"Hey, everything okay there?" John's voice reached the brothers through their earpieces.

"Everything is fine, we've got eight rescued workers and Virgil's in one piece and we are preparing to make our way back to the surface," Scott said, with a glance at the very much relieved faces of their rescued party, one of which included Virgil.

"FAB Mole."

XXXXXXXX

After the eight passengers had safely disembarked and Scott had handed them over to the paramedics who waited for them, he returned to the Mole where Virgil was returning the torches and First Aid kits to their correct places, filling in the equipment needing replaced on the Mole's checklist. He had a streak of red blood smeared across his cheek and Scott could see his jaw clenched tight, trying to keep the rescue act in place.

"They're gone, Virg," Scott said softly as Virgil returned the clipboard to its hook on the wall and sat down heavily in the pilot's chair. He wiped his eyes with his hands and let out a long sigh.

"You sure you're okay?" Scott asked him, sitting down in the chair next to him, offering him his water bottle. Virgil glanced up at him and took the water bottle with a smile of thanks.

"Yeah," Virgil shrugged. Scott studied him closely, able to see the hint of anxiety crossing his brother's face.

"It was close though," Scott said, his own honesty prompting his brother to share his true feelings about the rescue. Virgil looked back at him, his tense features softening.

"Yeah. A bit too close," Virgil admitted after a moment. Scott shifted uneasily in his chair, both unsure of what should be said next. Words of relief and thanks had already been silently passed in the moment that Scott had pulled Virgil from between broken beams. Sensing the sudden severity of the silence, Virgil took a slug from Scott's water bottle before pushing himself to his feet.

"Let's get packed up and go home," Virgil said.

"Sounds like a good idea."

XXXXXXXX

Virgil returned the Mole to its pod, rubbing his finger disdainfully across the dusty exterior. Cleaning the equipment was always a chore and Brains was yet to invent some sort of self-cleaning material. He took a steadying, deep breath as he closed up the Pod, keying in their security code to ensure the Pod was locked.

The rescue was done, they'd saved all of the trapped workers.

The adrenaline boost that had ensured Virgil managed to escape the collapse was wearing off and his arms and legs suddenly felt very heavy. He looked down at his hands, trembling slightly as they had done since Scott had pulled him loose of the last of the collapse. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he headed back towards Scott, catching a glimpse of him talking with two young ladies. One was the girl with the broken arm, Celine, from the basement office. Virgil couldn't hide the smile as they both giggled at one of his rubbish jokes.

"Hey Virg," Scott said as his brother approached him with a raised eyebrow. "You know Celine, this is her sister Amelie."

"Hi," Virgil said, before tilting his head towards their 'Birds. Scott nodded and smiled at his lady friends.

"It was lovely to meet you both, but we really must get going."

"Thank you, thank you again," the ladies gushed as Scott got to his feet. Amelie took his wrist gently, pulling him back to her for a moment. Virgil watched Scott with a look of shock mixed with admiration as she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and planted a none-to-subtle kiss on his lips. He stepped back, giving her his trademark dazzling smile before pulling Virgil back towards their crafts.

"She was very grateful for our help," Scott shrugged.

"Yeah, sure looked it," Virgil grinned as Scott looked up at him.

"What?"

"You, uh, got a little something there," Virgil laughed as he pointed to his bottom lip. Scott flushed and wiped the lingering scarlet lipstick from his mouth quickly.

"Better not put that in the debrief, huh?" he joked.

"I dunno, I think it was an important event during the rescue. You know Father really wants to know _everything_ that happens on the field," Virgil teased his brother with a smirk.

"In which case, do we need to share your 'And our equipment' remark to big fire chief Hank," Scott raised his eyebrows. Virgil relented with a half-smile and a sigh at being outdone by Scott once again.

"Point taken." Scott stopped beside Thunderbird One, pausing as Virgil hesitated beside him.

"Thanks," he said. "For pulling me out of there."

"I think it was John that found you, but…you're welcome. Just don't do that to me ever again." Virgil smiled and began walking towards Thunderbird Two. Scott stepped out from beside his ship and called a last order to Virgil.

"See you back at base. Fly safe."

XXXXXXXX

The journey was thankfully relatively short as Virgil had begun to feel a bit sick since he'd started his flight home. He loved flying his ship, but was unusually grateful to land and return to the ship to the cliffside hanger. He made his way towards the cockpit of his ship, opening the diagnostics and letting the programme sift through the movements of the ship that day. He rubbed at his temples, a lingering headache which had begun during the flight home. He tugged open his water bottle taking a large slug and sitting down in his pilot's chair.

"Hey Virg," Scott's voice crackled over the radio. "You about done? Dad's letting us grab food before the debrief."

"Sounds great," Virgil replied. "Just finishing diagnostics. Will be with you in…two minutes." A quick check of the progress of the program confirmed this.

"FAB." There was a small click as Scott ended the transmission and the cockpit returned to almost silence, save the ticking of the diagnostics programme.

It was then that Virgil felt, rather than saw, another presence in the ship. A shadow flickering across the periphery of his vision, a whispered word catching his ear. He stood up, making his way out into the corridor that housed the infirmary and cabins of the ship.

"Is someone there?" he called out, immediately regretting it as this whole set up reeked of Gordon and Alan.

"Gordon?" he tried. There was no sound, no moment. Not even a stifled snicker; Alan usually gave away the two brothers. Virgil slowly made his way down the corridor, towards the lift that would take him into the pod, he trailed his fingers along the warm metal wall.

"Virgil."

The voice startled him and he jerked back, pressing himself against the wall, letting out a cry of surprise despite himself. He closed his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts together.

He opened them. The bathroom across from him looked the same as always. Tiny shower cubicle, sink cluttered with coloured toothbrushes; matching their sashes of course. The little toilet.

Sitting on the closed lid of said toilet was an unexpected figure.

"Virgil." He repeated the same word, smiling at Virgil's reaction.

"How the hell…what…" he trailed off, eyes wide and shaking his head in disbelief.

"How about 'hello' Virgil? After all, we are well acquainted now." Belah Gaat got to his feet, smirking as Virgil edged back instantly.

"No…no, you can't be here…there's no way…"

"You are right Virgil. I'm not really here."

Virgil pressed himself back against the wall as Belah reached out, placing a finger on his forehead.

"I'm in there." Belah stepped back, smiling with satisfaction before making his way towards the cockpit. Virgil felt his stomach churning, his mouth dry as his legs went weak and he slid down the metal wall, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his head in his hands against them.

"Virgil!" Someone else shouting his name had exactly the same effect as it had before and Virgil desperately tried to push himself to his feet, but stumbled.

"Leave me alone!" he yelled out, edging into the corner of the corridor, reaching up to press the button to call the lift up from the pod.

"Virg, it's me!" It was Scott's voice. Not Belah. Scott. He was about to call out to him, warn him that Belah was here, when he entered the corridor, damp hair and freshly pressed jeans after a quick post-rescue shower. His eyes rested on Virgil for a moment before he made his way towards him, slowly.

"Hey…Virg, are you okay?" Virgil shook his head as Scott crouched down beside him.

"What happened?" Scott asked him, brushing back his hair with trembling hands.

"I saw him..." Virgil whispered. "He made me see..."

"What?" Scott frantically searched Virgil's face, looking for anything that might give him a clue as to what had happened to Virgil in the minutes since they'd spoken.

"Who did you see Virgil?" Virgil rubbed his hand across his eyes and shook his head, visibly disturbed by something and heaved himself into a sitting position. Scott placed a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Did you hit your head during the rescue?"

"He was here Scott! Standing just there..." A shaky finger pointed towards the bathroom.

"But there's no one Virgil...there's no one on the ship, I just walked through to get here..."

"I saw him Scott!" Virgil eyes were wild, showing a fear, a panic that was rarely seen in Virgil. Scott pulled his brother into his arms, trying to swallowing the worry that was welling inside of him.

"Saw who Virg?" Scott asked again, softly, wishing he didn't need to hear the answer he was dreading.

"Belah…I saw him."


	23. Finding Belah

_Happy new year! A relatively short update, but there's more to follow soon. Thanks again for the reading and reviewing_

Scott closed his eyes, listening to the gentle thud of the water against the small rowing boat. He enjoyed the feeling of the sun against his face, the salty sea air was almost refreshing.

He's managed to get him and Virgil a few hours of downtime and had promptly arranged a fishing trip, one of their favourite pastimes.

"I got one," he heard Virgil say and cocked one eye open to glanced at his brother, pulling the line in.

"A big one?" he asked as Virgil pulled the fish into the boat.

"Enough for dinner." Scott looked at fish and nodded approvingly. He took control of the oars and smiled.

"Well, let's eat."

The sun was beginning to go down as they prepared the small fire and set the fish on the griddle above it. Both brothers lounged back in the sand, resting in companionable silence, Scott poking at the fire every so often and taking a peek at the fish bundled up in silver foil.

"Smells good," Virgil commented as Scott sat back down.

"Not bad at all," Scott agreed.

Virgil pulled back the foil, hissing as the hot steam scalded his fingers. They made quick work of peeling away the crispy skin and digging their fingers into the soft white flesh of the fish. Both made approving noises as they ate.

"So, are we gonna talk about yesterday?" Scott asked after a while. Virgil popped a piece of fish into his mouth chewing it slowly and shrugging.

"I don't know what happened. I thought I saw him."

"You _thought_ you saw him? Virg, you looked scared shitless when I got there…"

"Wouldn't you be after what he did?" Virgil shot back defensively. Scott held his hands up, watching as Virgil licked his fingers clean.

"He wasn't there, you said you checked. Must have imagined it."

"You're seriously standing by that story?" Virgil lifted his eyes to Scott's, his eyes showing how confused and scared he was over the previous days encounter.

"It was a hard rescue, I was shaken up, I imagined it. That's what happened Scott, okay?" he said, his voice strained. There was an edgy silence before Scott sniffed and sat back.

"You know he's messed us both up," he commented after a moment. Virgil eyed him wearily before running his fingers through his hair, watching the glowing embers of the fire beginning to fade.

"Yeah," he agreed with a sigh.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As the sun began to set on another scorching summer day, Penelope sat back in her sun lounger, a glass of chilled Sauvignon Blanc resting lazily between her fingers. She'd spent the day at MI6 Headquarters, trawling the online databases for information about people of interest in the South-East Asia region. Her head pounded, her eyes strained from reading pages after pages of stark black text on a computer screen. She rubbed her eyes and rested the side of her head against her hand, watching the ripples shimmer across the glasslike surface of the pool.

Parker approached, clearing his throat as he placed a small bowl of olives on the coffee table.

"You seem tired, M'lady," he said, sitting down at the edge of the adjacent sun lounger.

"It's been something of a frustrating day," she sighed. "There are no records for Belah Gaat. Sir Jeremy's agent in Malaysia, Ethan, returned to the village. He visited the camp where Scott and Virgil were held and he said besides one hut, there was nothing left. The terrorist group and this Belah Gaat have just disappeared." Parker nodded, understandingly.

"Jeff asked me to track him, to find out where he was, who he dealt with, but I have no idea where to start. He is a man with many faces and identities. He could be anyone and could be anywhere. The trails gone cold. Belah Gaat has just vanished." Parker glanced at his employer and friend and shook his head slowly.

"I think, m'lady, that men like Gaat don't just disappear." Penelope glanced at him.

"No. That's what worries me."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Scott was finding it hard to switch off. The rescue the previous day had been stressful and he was still replaying the moment that roof had caved in over and over in his mind. To have dealt with almost losing Virgil to then witness what looked like a complete and utter meltdown in Two, he was unsettled.

More than unsettled. He was terrified. Virgil was not one to lose his cool about anything. Even in the jungle he had, mostly, kept it together.

He said he'd seen Belah Gaat. That filled Scott with an unspeakable dread. Was Virgil losing his marbles after their experience in the jungle? Was he suffering some sort of post-traumatic stress, he'd witnessed that many times during his Air Force career.

Was it something far more sinister? What was it Kyrano had said about Belah controlling the thoughts of others, like those he had working under his command in the jungle camp? Was that what was happening to Virgil?

After pacing three laps around the house, he headed towards the lounge. He heard the soft piano notes as he approached and paused, hidden from Virgil's view, but able to see his brother.

In the moonlight, Virgil was nothing more than a shadow, huddled over his beloved piano. He held a half empty bottle of beer in one hand as, with the other, his fingers picked out the simple notes of a haunting melody.

Scott swallowed thickly as he stepped into the lounge, wincing a little as Virgil flinched at the unexpected company. He stopped playing the melody and sat back on the stool.

"You couldn't sleep either?" Virgil asked him.

"Nope," Scott replied, taking Virgil's beer from him and helping himself to a slug. He perched on the arm rest at the edge of the couch.

"I was thinking about the rescue," Virgil said, without warning. "What about you?"

"The rescue, amongst other things," Scott answered, watching his brother carefully as he turned back to the piano.

"Brains checked me over, Scott," Virgil sighed. "He said I'm fine. I say it was obviously some reaction to the stress and aftermath of the rescue. There's no other explanation."

"Apart from what Kyrano told us Belah could do with people's minds," Scott said after a heavy silence. Virgil glanced wearily at him.

"I think we'd have known by now if he'd done something like that…" he said, trailing off uneasily as Scott handed him the last of the beer to drink. Virgil placed it down on top of the piano wordlessly.

"Sure we would," Scott said, forcing an optimistic smile.

XXXXXX

Belah had retreated to his hidden temple following his visit to the hospital. Some would have thought it a failed mission, he'd fled empty handed. Belah knew better, kneeling before the gold statue.

There was a time where he'd summon the thoughts of his half-brother, exploiting his connection to the organisation he so despised. But over time, Kyrano had built up a resistance to him, he could fight back, he'd even managed to block the evil spirits entering his thoughts completely.

But Virgil didn't have that skill and he'd been so easy to manipulate during his time in Belah's captivity. Belah couldn't resist the opportunity to use one of International Rescues own members to bring down the whole organisation.

It wasn't just to torment Jeff Tracy and his sons, although he would take great pleasure in watching that, but to access their island, their technology and their power.

But he couldn't rush things. Building up a greater presence in Virgil's mind would take some time. Most of his symptoms could be put down to the stress and trauma he underwent in the jungle.

He would start with some worrying visions.

XXXXXXXXXXX

The dream was so vivid, he could smell the rotting vegetation in the forest, feel the mud slick beneath his bare feet and feel the chilled metal of the pistol he held. Belah's voice whispering into his ear, hauntingly familiar. He opened his eyes, finding Scott standing before him...his eyes almost tearful and his voice trembling as he spoke to him.

He jerked awake as the sound of the pistol firing echoed through his head, his own scream of horror, the sound of Scott's anguished yell as the bullet hit him...

"Virgil! Wake up!"

It was Scott's voice and Virgil woke with a sudden intake of breath. Scott's face before his and all he could see in his mind was the haunting image of his own hand taking his brother's life...

"Scott...Scott..." It was all he could say, pushing him back to see for himself that Scott was still there, was still alive, that his white t-shirt was still blindingly white.

"I thought I..." Virgil stopped as Scott gently pulled him towards him, already a well-used gesture since the aftermath of their abduction. Scott chewed down on the inside of his cheek as Virgil began to cry. Not soft sobs, but heart-breaking cries. Scott didn't think he'd ever seen Virgil cry like this.

The sobs tore at Virgil's chest, a seething pain burning through him, he honestly felt his heart was breaking inside the pain was so intense. He cried loudly, his hands clenching at Scott's thin T-shirt, feeling it roughly slip between his fingers.

"It was just a dream, Virg," Scott whispered. "Whatever it was…it was just a dream." Virgil pulled Scott closer, burying his head in his shoulder.

He wasn't sure it was just a dream.


	24. Firefight

_Apologies for the delay in this update. _

Jeff glanced at his eldest sons, both stifling yawns as they listened intently to the information John was receiving from the rescue zone, a forest fire in Southern Australia.

"Unseasonable drought has dried out all the vegetation and the heat has clearly started the fire. The local authorities don't believe this was foul play. They've requested our assistance to evacuate two families and aid where possible with dousing the flames."

John's clipped tones informed the brothers of their rescue, Jeff nodding his thanks to John before turning to Scott and Virgil. Gordon perched at the edge of the couch, his eyes were wide in his eagerness to attend the rescue. Alan hovered uncertainly beside him. Normally, Jeff would have been confident to let Scott and Virgil handle this rescue alone, but looking at the shadows around their eyes, he decided that a full crew might be a good precaution. He smiled warmly at his youngest sons.

"Ok, Virgil, take Gordon, Alan and Firefly and the Extinguisher…Scott, get on ahead and try and obtain as much information about where our stranded families are."

"FAB," Scott replied, not bothering to question his father's choice of crew. He felt with the way things were with Virgil, it might be best to have another set of eyes monitoring the rescue. Scott and Virgil made their way to their Thunderbirds without any further conversation. As Gordon and Alan made their way to the passenger lift to Thunderbird Two, Jeff stopped them.

"Boys, keep an eye on Scott and Virgil for me," he said. Alan nodded simply, but Gordon frowned.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No, but I think they both had a hard time on that last rescue…the workers trapped in the basement. Don't tell them, but I think they'd appreciate some extra help."

"FAB," Alan said, giving Gordon an exasperated 'come on' look. Gordon smiled and nodded at his father before following Alan to the passenger lift.

"You ever feel like they're keeping something from us?" Gordon asked him as the doors slide shut and they felt the lift gently descending.

"All the time," Alan replied. "You know what it's been like since Scott and Virgil got back."

"I just think there's something really wrong and we're being kept in the dark. It's not good on rescues Al. We're supposed to know everything that might have an effect on the rescue and if there's something going on with Scott and Virgil, that could easily impact on the rescue." Alan studied his brother's disgruntled features. It wasn't often Gordon was so serious about anything, but the secrecy and lack of communication with his older brothers had obviously hit a nerve.

"It's not even just about us going on rescues though," Gordon continued in a soft voice. "We're meant to be a family. A family that talks to one another when things aren't going well. Scott and Virgil always go on at us to talk about problems…but they don't take any of their own advice."

"That's what I told John the other day," Alan said. The brothers trailed into silence as there was a soft click and the lift doors swished open, revealing the bright interior of the cockpit of Thunderbird 2. Virgil was carrying out his pre-flight checks, already kitted out in his freshly pressed uniform. He gave his youngest brothers a smile.

"Welcome on board. Your uniforms are in the store cupboard if you want to get yourselves ready. We'll be taking off in about three minutes."

"FAB," Gordon said as he and Alan collected their uniforms.

"Virgil seems okay," Alan said as he brushed down his white sash carefully. Gordon said nothing. His silence was telling.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

The four brothers surveyed the scene before them. What looked like hundreds of fire trucks, red and blue lights casting flickering shadows against the surrounding trees. Above them, black smoke billowed out like cushions up into the air, carrying an ominous orange glow from the raging furnace below.

"Wow," Gordon whistled softly, glancing towards Scott who rubbed his hand across his chin.

"How do you want to do this?" Virgil asked him.

"Gordon, can you take The Extinguisher and start putting out the flames close to the areas where there are people needing help. Once that's done, work alongside the fire trucks to boost their numbers."

"FAB Scott," Gordon replied, running towards the open pod.

"Al, I want you to man Mobile Control. You'll need to help co-ordinate our positions so we can get the families out of the fire, making sure Gordon can pick them up and clear a safe path."

"FAB," Alan replied, his smile suggesting he was pleased with the role of rescue co-ordinator.

"We're going to get those families that need our help. It will be easier for us to get there with Gordon and treat any injuries. Gordon can make sure the flames are doused before we return," Scott said to Virgil.

"FAB," Virgil said. "I've got the heat resistant suits. We'd all better get suited up."

XXXXXXXX

Gordon, Virgil and Scott were squashed together in the front seats of the Extinguisher, Scott carrying out radio checks with Alan at Mobile Control, John in Thunderbird Five and Brains and their father at their island base. Satisfied that everything was working as it should, Scott sat back, glancing at Gordon as he manoeuvred the heavy machine into the forest.

The weight came from the heat resistant tiles that Brains had developed. They could withstand extreme temperatures which allowed the machine to be used to access areas which normal rescue machinery would not be able to. However, the effective mix of minerals which created the heat resistant properties added an extra weight to the machine, something Brains was still trying to resolve.

Usually Virgil would have taken charge of the machine, but he'd handed the responsibility to Gordon without as much as a murmur of annoyance. Scott looked at Virgil as he shifted uncertainly beside him, clearly still unsettled about recent events. Scott quietened the niggling doubt that Virgil was perhaps not really suited to the rescue.

"You're approaching the first house just now," John's voice interrupted his thoughts over the speaker. "Another twenty meters, left of your position." Scott, Gordon and Virgil peered into the grey smoke, thankful for John's eyes and GPS data to help them navigate through the dense forest with little visibility.

"You take this one Scott," Virgil said as the approached the small cabin. "Gordon and I can get to the next one and evacuate the family and come back for you." Scott hesitated, but relented as Gordon nodded in agreement.

"FAB. Be careful and I'll see you soon." Gordon mock saluted as Scott exited the vehicle, taking hold of three oxygen masks to give the trapped family and his first aid pack. The Extinguisher roared into life as Gordon pushed on, deeper into the forest to find the second cabin. John's detailed directions helped them find it quickly and it was Virgil's turn to collect the equipment he'd need.

"I'll stay here and put out some of these flames," Gordon told his brother as he checked the contents of his First Aid Kit. Virgil glanced at him and for a moment, Gordon was lost in the intensity of his gaze. He hardly looked like his brother at all. His usually warm eyes had an uneasy glint and looked cold and detached.

"Virg…" Gordon trailed off, his voice fading as Virgil gripped his shoulder with an iron grip.

"No, we need to help the fire trucks stop the flames from spreading. You need to head deeper into the forest to tackle the hard to reach places. That's why they called us out here." Gordon blinked slowly, Virgil's voice lacking the softer, warm tones that always helped reassured him during any rescue.

"But didn't Scott say…" he trailed off as Virgil fixed him with a glare.

"I'll call you when I need you back to help me evacuate the family, but in the meantime, you need to head in there." Gordon glanced towards Virgil's pointed finger, a smoky tunnel where he knew temperatures would be pushing the heat defences of both their protective suits and the protective coating on the Extinguisher.

Gordon knew that, but looking back at his brother, he found any words of protest diminished the moment he'd considered them. He was finding it hard to process Virgil's words when he saw Virgil smile at him.

"Hey, you ok Gordon?" he asked him, all of a sudden back to normal. Gordon edged back, smiling wearily as Virgil stepped out of the machine, glancing over his shoulder at him.

"Uh…yeah Virgil. Sure. FAB." Virgil slammed the door of the machine shut and jogged towards the cabin. Gordon swallowed thickly as he revved the engine once again, preparing to follow Virgil's orders.

XXXXXXXX

Virgil battered the worn wooden door with his shoulder, wincing a little at the shooting pain across the lingering bruises he'd sustained in the last rescue. He stumbled into the tiny lounge and quickly spotted the figures huddled in the centre of the room, damp cloths pressed to their mouths to try to ease their breathing. Virgil quickly knelt down beside them, handing out the oxygen masks. The mother helped her children secure them before turning to Virgil, hands extended as she waited for her own. Virgil glanced down at his side, realising he was one mask short.

He was sure he had double checked the equipment as he'd loaded the Extinguisher. He was certain of it. But now he was one oxygen mask short. Virgil took off his own breathing mask, passing it to the mother with a reassuring smile.

"But…" she began, but Virgil shook his head, getting to his feet quickly.

"Don't worry. I'm going to call my colleague to come get us. Hold on." The mother smiled thankfully, turning her attention back to the four young children, reassuring them that they were safe and help was on the way.

XXXXXXXXXX

The heat in the Extinguisher was almost unbearable, the temperature gauge creeping up towards the red temperatures, the danger temperatures. Gordon had long lost interest in watching the gauge and was now focused on trying to navigate his way back towards Virgil, or at least away from the relenting heat. His on-board GPS had failed. Gordon wondered if perhaps the heat had fried the electrics.

"Gordon to John…" He tried contacting Thunderbird Five, but wasn't surprised when the radio remained silent. He'd already tried his individual brothers and their father and had found the same. Gordon reached behind his seat, feeling for his oxygen mask as he coughed violently, his chest aching with the force of it.

His fingers grasped thin air and Gordon wearily glanced over his shoulder. His oxygen mask was gone. Wiping sweat from his forehead with his arm, Gordon opened the door of the Extinguisher.

If the heat inside had been almost unbearable, the exterior was a furnace, temperatures soaring and a dry heat which sucked any moisture from his throat and mouth. He managed to walk a couple of steps before the heat overcame him, his vision fading to a single point and his limbs becoming heavy, pulling him down into the ground.

He let his head rest against the scalding mud and closed his eyes, unaware of the flames edging closer to him.


	25. Concerns

_another late update, but i've made it a longer one! thanks again for all reads and reviews_

Virgil glanced over his shoulder at the relieved faces of the family, stifling a cough as he felt the smoke tickling the back of his throat. The mother pushed back sweaty strands of hair from the youngest of her children, smiling her thanks to Virgil. The heat and smoke had intensified in the last few minutes and Virgil knew they had to get out as soon as possible.

"Virgil to the Extinguisher, we're all ready to go here." There was an ominous silence and Virgil tried another tactic.

"Virgil calling Gordon, can you hear me?" He tried to keep his voice steady and calm, but he had an uneasy feeling that something had gone wrong. He wasn't entirely sure why.

"Gordon? Gordon…"

With no response, Virgil felt the familiar tightening of his gut, the same worry they all faced when experiencing loss of contact with any of the others. He gave the family a reassuring smile.

"Virgil to Scott, Scott can you hear me?" Virgil tried, but there was still no response. He made his way to the doorway, trying to peer through thick acrid smoke, but unable to see anything more than about a meter or so in front of him.

"Virgil to Thunderbird Five, John can you hear me?" Virgil spoke quickly, trying to quash the slight panic he felt as once again, his call went unheard. With no one answering his call and a brother lost out in the dense flames surrounding them, Virgil had no choice but to find Gordon. He knew that kitted up in his heat-resistant suit, he could withstand the heat for a while longer. Unfortunately, without the breathing apparatus, he would need to work twice as quickly.

He took a few hesitant steps away from the smouldering house, trying to get some idea of what direction he was heading in.

Despite being surrounded by flames, Virgil felt his whole body grow cold as in the shimmering heat, he could make out a blurry figure, making its way through the smoke. Virgil took off after the figure, yelling to attract their attention. They seemed intent on leading him as far into the forest as possible and Virgil stopped.

"Hey!" he called out. The figure stopped as Virgil took a few tentative steps towards them.

"What are you doing out here?" Virgil asked. "You need to get back to the house, there's a family there and we're going to get out of here…" The figure turned around and Virgil stopped, stumbling back.

"You've lost Gordon," the figure said. "You sent him into this Godforsaken part of the forest, leaving him without enough oxygen and now that your equipment has failed, he has no idea where he is and neither do you…"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Virgil demanded. "I didn't tell him to come here!"

"You did…although you might not have realised it. Virgil, haven't you realised what is going on?"

Belah Gaat seemed to disappear into the dense smoke and flames and suddenly, Virgil remembered where he was and who he was looking for.

"Gordon!" Virgil yelled, his eyes finding the scorched remains of The Extinguisher abandoned. His eyes stung from the smoke, involuntary watering. Tears streaking through the soot coating his face.

"Gordon!" Virgil shouted again, leaning over as he was overcome for a moment by the smoke. He'd given the family his own breathing equipment, which he now realised could become a fatal error.

"I'll take them one by one Virgil…but it will be your hand that causes the damage."

The voice was so clear he would have thought Belah was standing next to him. He looked around, the air shimmering with the heat from the surrounding flames.

"There is no way in hell I'd let you do that!" Virgil spat, stumbling past their machine to find a motionless Gordon, collapsed on the other side.

"No…" Virgil whispered softly, placing his ear to Gordon's mouth and laughing in delight as he felt the moist puffs of air against his cheek. He checked him over for any injuries and when satisfied that Gordon could be moved without causing further damage, he eased him into a sitting position.

Gordon's eyes flickered open as Virgil hauled him into a fireman's carry.

"Vir'…what'cha doin'…" Gordon croaky voice began to slur and Virgil pushed himself into a quicker pace, heading back towards the house he'd left the family sheltering in. As he moved further from the rescue zone, his earpiece crackled into life.

"Mobile control calling Virgil…Virgil, can you hear me?"

"Alan! Where have you been? I've been trying to contact you…"

"All I've been getting from you was static…Scott's with the family you were supposed to be with…he called me when he arrived and you weren't there. What's going on? Where's Gordon?"

"Look, prepare the sick bay in Thunderbird 2, I've got Gordon, but he's unconscious…I don't know how much smoke he's inhaled…" Virgil trailed off with his own cough. Immediately, Scott's voice could be heard.

"What about you? You don't sound good…"

"The family of four was actually a family of five. I gave them my oxygen mask…I didn't think I was going to be in the smoke looking for Gordon for so long…" Another painful cough found Virgil almost collapsing to his knees, bracing himself and his brother against a tree for a moment.

"Where's the Extinguisher?" Scott asked.

"Gone…" Virgil trailed off as he felt Gordon shift and cough weakly.

"I need to get Gordon to the sickbay…"

"FAB Virg, let me get this family out of here, you get Gordon to the sickbay." At another soft groan from Gordon, Virgil summoned the last reserves of strength to push himself towards Mobile Control.

XXXXXXXXX

As Scott carried Gordon towards the sick bay, Virgil let himself collapse to the ground, sitting watching the firemen dousing the flames close to them. He closed his eyes over wearily before falling back into the scorched grass, the crackling from the remaining flames filling his ears. He pushed his hand into his sweat dampened hair and opened his eyes as he heard Alan's voice.

"Virgil!" Alan called to him, kneeling down beside him and helping him sit up.

"I'm ok, Al," he reassured him. "I just needed to rest that's all. Carrying Gordon took it out of me…" He offered a half smile which seemed to placate Alan for a moment.

"What happened?" Alan asked him. "Gordon wasn't supposed to be that far into the forest…Scott had said he was to stay with you and then help you get the family out of the fire."

"Must have been some misunderstanding," Virgil said flatly, his eyes gazing past Alan, back towards the forest. Alan glanced over his shoulder, trying to see whatever it was that had distracted Virgil, but could only see clumps of smouldering wood.

"I want to get you checked out before you fly," Scott said as he approached them.

"Smoke inhalation," Virgil self-diagnosed. "I'll be fine." Scott gave him a warning glance before turning to Alan.

"Alan, you should pilot Thunderbird Two home…"

"No Scott," Virgil interrupted, his dark eyes widening. "I'll be fine. Al can co-pilot and he'll be there if I need him, but honestly, I'm okay…" Scott turned to Alan, giving him sharp orders to check on Gordon and to prepare Thunderbird 2 for take-off. Alan hesitated, his eyes darting between Scott and Virgil. He was reminded of the words Gordon had spoken to him in the passenger lift earlier that day.

"Now Alan!" Scott snapped and Alan quickly trotted back towards Thunderbird Two, casting a few glances over his shoulders.

"I'm okay to fly," Virgil protested again, but Scott waved aside his arguments.

"That's not what I want to talk about. You were ill-equipped in there," he said. "You told me you had more than enough oxygen masks…you had to give yours away and you left Gordon without one!"

"I counted them Scott, I swear…" Virgil protested, trailing off as he thought back to the orders he'd apparently given Gordon. He paled suddenly and Scott placed a hand on his shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he asked him. Virgil shook his head before easing himself to his feet, glancing around him wearily.

"I…" Virgil stopped. Scott watched his brother and was reminded of the moments after he'd found him in Thunderbird Two, terrified having claimed he'd seen Belah Gaat. Virgil had the same uneasy look in his eye, the same pale and shaken complexion. Virgil took hold of his wrist, his fingers tightening around it as he started intently into the forest behind them.

"What happened in there Virg?" Scott asked him gently.

"Nothing," Virgil replied shortly, turning his attention back to Scott and dropping his wrist quickly. "We better get back and get Gordon checked out." Reluctantly, Scott let Virgil push past him, making his way determinedly back towards Thunderbird Two. Scott watched him go, still chilled by the troubled, scared look in Virgil's eyes.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Scott accepted the invitation of a drink on the balcony of the lounge with his father after a quick dinner.

"Gordon's resting up now. Both he and Virgil are receiving treatment for smoke inhalation in the Infirmary." Jeff nodded as he and Scott raised the glasses in a mutual toast to another job well done. They nursed their whiskey's silently for a while before Jeff decided to approach the subject of Scott and Virgil's recovery.

"Virgil did well getting Gordon out of there…how did he know…?"

"I guess maybe Gordon had given him details of where he was headed," Scott mused. "I was too relieved to see them both out of there that I didn't really think about it."

"He's still not himself."

"I don't think me and Virgil could ever be the same after what happened Dad. It was…awful." Scott took a sip of his whiskey with a look that told his father he didn't want to discuss what had or hadn't happened in Malaysia.

"I heard him crying last night," Jeff said, watching Scott try and fail to hide a flinch.

"He...if I say he had a nightmare, it sounds pathetic, but that's what it was I guess."

"What did he dream about?"

"He wouldn't say."

XXXXXXXXXX

John smiled as the call from Tracy Island came in. He'd expected his father, bidding him good night, or perhaps a joke from Alan. Instead, he was greeted by Virgil, all mussed hair and unshaven.

"Hey, I thought you were in the infirmary," John said.

"Hey to you too," Virgil replied dryly, his voice still scratching in his throat.

"You know what I mean. You don't look all that great. Or sound that great either."

"I'm fine. I need you to send me the recordings from our earpieces during the rescue." John blinked in surprise before he frowned.

"Uh, can I ask why?"

"Just do it, John."

Virgil cut the link to Thunderbird 5, interrupting John's protests. He opened the sound file, scrolling through their communications during the journey to the rescue zone, the discussion about how to tackle the flames and rescue the trapped families, until he reached his own discussion with Gordon.

"You need to go and tackle the flames in the forest."

He heard his own voice giving Gordon the order, which had nearly killed him. He paused the track, scrolling it back and played it again.

"You need to go and tackle the flames in the forest."

A second listen only confirmed the chilling truth. Virgil had spoken the order.

He slammed the lid of his laptop down and folded his arms on top of it, resting his head on them. He had no recollection of speaking those words to Gordon, but there was the evidence, their conversation recorded by their earpieces.

Without even knowing it, Virgil had sent Gordon into the situation that had almost cost him his life.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Virgil returned to the infirmary, sitting by Gordon's beside, staring at the scorched ends of his hair. The stench of singed hair clung to him. He'd scrubbed himself raw in the shower, using a concoction of all sorts of fragrant soaps, but he could still smell the warm smoky scent through the mulberry and almond shower gel. He glanced at Gordon's heart rate, monitored by a tiny clip on his finger, out of habit. It was normal. Gordon was fine. He shifted uncertainly in the chair as he saw Gordon's eyelids flicker before they opened slowly, sluggishly looking around the infirmary before settling on his brother.

Virgil watched him wearily as Gordon blinked before a slow smile crept across his face.

"Hey," he said, his voice breaking like glass in his dry throat.

"Hey," Virgil returned. "How are you feeling?" Gordon half smiled, as though contemplating the question for a moment.

"I'm okay I think. What about you? Al said you got me out of there…" Gordon's voice faded into nothing and Virgil was glad of the opportunity to leave his brother's bed side and get him a glass of water.

"Do you know what happened?" Virgil asked him as he helped him sit up and handed him the glass. Gordon frowned before shaking his head.

"I just remember being really hot and I'd left the Extinguisher although I don't really know why…"

"Do you know why you went to that part of the forest?" Gordon looked at Virgil and shook his head.

"I can't really remember much after dropping you off at the house," he admitted. "Maybe the heat got to me or something…" At Gordon's subdued response, Virgil looked away. Gordon was blaming himself for what had happened. He thought he had been responsible for getting himself into danger and that he hadn't been concentrating and hadn't seen the potential danger. Even though the five brothers had been well trained and would have immediately spotted the signs that they were a liability and called for help.

He looked almost miserable and Virgil's heart went out to him. He wanted to reassure him he wasn't to blame, that he suspected he was.

But he couldn't. To admit that to Gordon would terrify him. Virgil wasn't entirely sure what was going on himself, never mind trying to explain Belah's words to Gordon.

"Don't worry about it, Gordon," Virgil said softly, placing a steady hand on his shoulder. "It happens to us all." He swallowed thickly as Gordon managed a weak smile and nodded.

"You should sleep," Virgil continued. "I'll see you in the morning." Gordon nodded again, settling back against his pillows and letting his eyes drift shut. Virgil pushed himself to his feet, trying to squash the tremendous guilt that was turning his stomach and left the infirmary, dimming the lights and silently letting the door swish shut behind him.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Scott enjoyed the peaceful tranquillity of the island before everyone else woke. It was still dark, although the deep violet of night time was beginning to lighten, the beginnings of sunrise appearing over the ocean. Scott would often enjoy some time to think, to reflect and prepare himself for what rescues might lie ahead. He needed to keep a focused mind.

However, his quiet reflection was disturbed as Scott spotted a figure sitting beside the swimming pool. The soft orange glow and wisp of silver smoke gave away the identity of the person, although Scott had known as soon as he'd seen the figure that it was Virgil. Scott returned to the kitchen, quickly collecting two mugs and filling them with strong, black coffee before making his way down towards the poolside.

The palm trees rustled in the warm breeze as Virgil glanced around on hearing the approaching footsteps. Scott smiled as he held out the mug.

"I thought you might need this," Scott said. Virgil's eyes passed over the cup with a wry smile before he reached out and took it, taking a sip. Scott noted the dark red vessels bright against the dull whites of Virgil's eyes. He looked exhausted, his posture that of a defeated man. Scott was aware they were both trying to put the events of their abduction behind them, but it seemed Virgil had slipped backwards, back into sullen silences.

"Thanks," Virgil muttered after a moment and Scott smiled.

"You're up early," Scott commented, watching the ripples flicker across the swimming pool surface.

"Couldn't sleep," Virgil replied. "Gordon was snoring in the infirmary all last night…" Scott chucked as Virgil took another sip of coffee followed by another draw on his cigarette.

"Thought you'd finally given up for good."

"So did I," Virgil sighed. "But it's a distraction for now. I'll work on quitting later." Scott understood completely and smiled sadly.

"Tough rescue, huh?" Scott said after a period of comfortable silence.

"Yeah." Virgil looked away, trying not to replay the events of the rescue in his mind. Gordon's snoring had been annoying, but it was the real fear that something, or someone else, had control over him for those long minutes in the fire. He tried not to shudder as Scott placed a hand on his shoulder, reminded of Belah's words to him.

"Have you slept this week Virg?" Scott asked him.

"How can I..." Virgil sighed wearily, rubbing his eye.

"What do you dream about?" Scott asked him. Virgil shook his head.

"I don't want to talk about it…" Scott sipped his coffee, letting the conversation drift into another period of silence. Virgil stubbed out his cigarette against the pale patio tiles, kicking it to the side and cupping both hands around the mug, absorbing the last of the warmth from it. Scott glanced at him out of the corner of his eye as he spoke.

"You know, when I came back from Somalia, some of those who were with me suffered from post-traumatic stress. They had nightmares, they had anxiety attacks…"

"Months later?" Virgil asked him with a note of scepticism. Scott shrugged.

"There are things that you can do…" he tried to reason, tried to offer some help to his brother.

"Things I can take?" Virgil interrupted. "Look, you're acting like I'm going crazy…" Scott fixed him with a steady gaze.

"It would be no wonder after what happened…" Virgil looked away, sighing heavily.

"Don't Scott…" Virgil snapped. "It's not…it's nothing that I can't deal with. I'll be fine. You don't need to worry about me." He got to his feet, knocking over his discarded coffee mug accidentally. He stopped, leaning over to pick it up. Scott reached over and took his wrist in his hand gently.

"That's my job Virg," Scott sighed. "Don't shut me out. I know what happened. I was there…" Virgil looked away from Scott's pleading look, snatching his wrist from his grasp with a grunt.

"I'll be fine," Virgil repeated firmly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Scott decided to run out the worry and stress in the gym, close enough that he could check up on Gordon and keep an eye out for Virgil. He let his feet pound to the rhythm of the music Alan was blasting out from the weight room next door. Scott closed his eyes, letting his breathing match his pace, in through the nose, out through the mouth…his mind beginning to relax and the tension beginning to leave his shoulders. He rolled his neck round slowly, feeling the uncomfortable click of the muscles loosening up.

His meditation was interrupted by a loud chime from the speaker next to him. Scott's eyes opened suddenly and he momentarily lost his pace, stumbling for a moment.

"Hey John," Scott said as his brother appeared on the screen in the gym. He looked immaculate as ever in his freshly pressed blue uniform and gave Scott a warm smile.

"Hello yourself. I thought I'd find you here," John said.

"I'm that predictable?" Scott asked with a soft laugh.

"These days you are," John returned. "How are things after the rescue? I spoke to Gordon, he seems to be okay."

"Yeah, he's recovered well. Thanks to Virgil for getting him out of there so quickly," Scott said. "It could have been far worse though…"

"But it wasn't, so let's not dwell on it, huh?" John interrupted quickly, realising the dark turn Scott's mind was taking.

"Yeah. What's done is done. There are some actions we will need to take to make sure something like that doesn't happen again, but we're all still here."

"So is that why Virgil wanted the audio from the rescue the other day?" John asked, almost off hand.

"Why would Virg what now?" John paused, before answering slowly, carefully choosing his words.

"He called me and asked me to send it to his laptop. I did, but he wouldn't tell me why he needed it so urgently. It was about three am island time." Scott stopped the running machine, letting his pace slow up as the treadmill eased to a halt. He picked up his towel, wiping his face and shaking his head.

"You don't know either?" John asked him.

"I didn't even know he'd asked for the audio. He's kinda been keeping a low profile. I thought it was to do with…look, it doesn't matter. I'll speak to him."

"What's wrong with him?" John pressed.

"It's no big deal, John," Scott assured him.

"Look, I know I'm not part of the 'Scott and Virgil' circle of trust or whatever, but you're my brothers and I'm worried."

"We're fine," Scott tried to assure him, watching as John's face flickered uncertainly.

"It's to do with Malaysia, I get it," he said after a moment. "It's to do with The Hood." Scott's eyes flashed warningly, a silent threat to John to drop the subject.

"I could just call Virgil…"

"Don't you dare, John. He's not in a good place and I don't want you or anyone else talking about it. I'm dealing with it, ok?"

"You're dealing with it? If something is going on, you know it could affect us on a rescue Scott…"

"Don't you think I know that?" Scott demanded. "Let me talk to him. For all we know, he might have wanted to check on communications he had between Thunderbird 2 and base…we can't jump to the worst possible conclusion." John relented with a small sigh.

"It's just that things have been a bit strained with Virg recently, you know? He's just not himself right now…we're worried about him, Scott." Scott held John's gaze for a moment.

"I know. But it'll be all right," Scott assured him. "We always work things out."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

A sliver of moonlight trickled between the blinds, slicing through the darkness of the room. Virgil sat up, fumbling for the light switch, but paused when he saw the figure in the light.

He could only see part of an eye, the corner of a mouth, but it was enough to identify the man.

It was Belah Gaat.

Virgil froze. Belah stared at him, not moving, not blinking, barely breathing. A contrast to Virgil who's breathing was becoming more laboured as his fear intensified.

The silent stand-off continued, Virgil hardly daring to move and very much aware of the danger this man posed not only to himself, but to the rest of his family.

Virgil turned on the light, closing his eyes against the sudden brightness. He opened them quickly, aware of putting himself into an unnecessary danger. As the spots before his eyes faded, he saw his bedroom was empty.

He kicked himself free of the covers, stumbling out of his bed and pulling open his cupboard doors, throwing wide the door to his en-suite.

No sign of Belah Gaat.

Virgil stood in the middle of his room, feeling warm beads of sweat trickling down the back of his neck. He clenched and unclenched his fists methodically as he tried to control his rapid heartbeat, pounding in his ears.

He wasn't aware he'd been crying until a sob burst from between pinched lips.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Scott was a man that coped with few hours of sleep and he liked to be up long before the sun peeked over the horizon, but the soft, yet frantic, knock on his door at three am yanked him from a peaceful sleep. He padded softly to the door, opening it.

"Virg…"

"Scott, can I…" Virgil trailed off, his usually sun-blushed face looking pale and washed out, his bare chest was covered with a sheen of sweat.

"God Virg, what's the matter?" Scott asked him, taking his wrist softly and easing him into his bedroom. Virgil's eyes nervously scanned the room before he sat at the edge of Scott's bed, looking as though he was about to be sick.

"Virg, you're scaring me…" Scott said with a nervous laugh, catching the tell-tale redness around Virgil's eyes. He swallowed thickly as he sat down next to his brother. He could feel the slight trembling of Virgil's body and reached out to place a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Remember when I said I saw him in Two…after that rescue…" Virgil began, his voice shaking slightly, but he did nothing to hide it. Scott felt his heart jump, panic rising inside of him as he watched his usually calm, steady and collected brother being anything but calm, steady and collected.

"Uh, yeah…" Scott agreed.

"I saw him again. In my room…just there…"

"What the hell…he's on the island? We've got to get the others out of here Virgil…" Virgil's iron grip on his arm prevented him from moving into action however.

"No. He's not…"

"Not what?"

"He's not on the island Scott." Virgil turned to look at him and Scott wanted to be sick as he looked at Virgil's haunted gaze.

"He's in my head Scott…"


	26. Unwelcome Truths

_I can't apologise enough for the lateness of this update! Unfortunately writing has had to take a back seat with the amount of work going on...Thanks for your patience!_

After hours of restless tossing and turning, Virgil had finally fallen asleep. Scott had watched over him, as though expecting Belah's presence in Virgil's head to manifest itself during his sleeping, but apart from a few muffled snores, Virgil slept peacefully.

Scott stifled his own yawn and was about to return to his own suite, when he glimpsed Virgil's laptop on his cluttered desk. Glancing apologetically at his sleeping brother, Scott lifted the lid, wincing as the laptop let out a small ping. Virgil sniffed in his sleep, but settled down again. Virgil's email and an internet site where he was ordering paints flickered across the screen. Scott closed the on-screen windows and clicked on the sound file that John had sent, the one Virgil had requested after the most recent rescue. Scott pressed on the sound file, sighing as he heard the beginnings of the rescue. Virgil had highlighted a section of the sound track and Scott scrolled to it.

He pressed play.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Beautiful morning for a swim Gordon," Jeff said with a smile as Gordon jogged past his desk clad in his skimpiest speedos. The early morning sun was blazing down on the island, casting tempting sparkles across the pool surface.

"Yup," Gordon confirmed as he trotted down the steps curving towards the poolside, threw his towel to the side and dived perfectly into the pool, barely causing a splash. From the kitchen, Jeff could hear Tin Tin's musical laugh and Alan's poor jokes. Brains had called him earlier from his lab, having made a breakthrough in reducing the weight and bulk of the heat resistant tiles on the Extinguisher and the design of Extinguisher 2 was well underway. His mother passed him, a smile on her face as she carried the soiled, dusty uniforms that required cleaning.

Jeff leaned back in his desk chair, folding his hands behind his head and letting a smile of contentment cross his face.

Things were beginning to get back to normal.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"So now you know."

Scott jumped as he heard Virgil's voice from behind him and glanced over his shoulder. Virgil looked forlornly at him from his place amongst rumpled duvet covers. Scott wanted to be angry, but as Virgil's defeated expression, he moved to sit next to him.

For a long time they sat in pensive silence, neither entirely sure of what to say. In the end, Virgil broke the silence with a mumbled explanation.

"I didn't tell Gordon to do that…well, I must have, but I didn't…I wouldn't have…" He trailed off miserably, shoulders slumped and an expression of confusion mingled with real fear flickering across his features.

"You don't remember saying any of that?" Scott asked, pointing towards the laptop. Virgil shook his head silently.

"Right." Scott pressed his lips together thoughtfully, but it was clear he had no idea what actions they might take to solve the issue Virgil was currently facing.

"But there's the proof I that said it and that Gordon almost died by following my instructions." Virgil's voice sounded incredibly fragile in his guilt and Scott shook his head.

"It wasn't you," Scott said softly. Virgil continued as though he hadn't heard his attempts to reassure him.

"I saw him in the forest. He told me that it was my fault. Maybe it is…"

"You saw Belah again? Why didn't you tell me before now, Virgil?" Scott demanded. Virgil turned on him furiously; pended up emotions of confusion, anger and fear suddenly exploding from him.

"Because it fucking scares me, Scott," Virgil yelled. "How long before something worse happens to Gordon, or Alan, or John…or you, Scott because I don't have any control over what I'm doing…" The words hung between them and Scott reluctantly dropped eye contact with his obviously distressed younger brother.

"So what do you want to do?" Scott asked after a long silence. Virgil wiped the bottom of his nose against his sleeve and shrugged.

"Well, as Field Commander, I think you should step down from International Rescue." Virgil glanced up at Scott in shock.

"Step down?" he repeated.

"Yeah." Scott got to his feet, turning away from Virgil so as not to see the painful expression scarring his usually calm features. He moved to the window, glancing out across the extinct volcanic cone beyond their island villa.

"What do you think I should do?" Virgil asked him. Scott swallowed thickly and cleared his throat a little.

"I told you, step down…"

"No, what do you, Scott, think I should do?" Virgil interrupted. Scott turned back to Virgil, and held his hands up helplessly.

"Honestly? I don't know Virg," he sighed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jeff scrolled through the emails confirming the merger of one of Tracy Corp's side projects with one of NASA's new developments. It was business as usual, even without his constant input. The thought of something of a retirement fleetingly crossed his mind again.

Perhaps it was time to give his sons the attention they deserved.

A soft cough roused him from his thoughts and he glanced towards the doorway. He smiled warmly at the sight of Virgil hovering in the doorway.

"Virgil, what can I do for you?" he asked.

"I'm here to talk business," Virgil half-smiled. Jeff gestured for him to sit down on the leather couch, offering him a glass of something. An old habit that hadn't diminished. Virgil reached out and took the glass, although he looked as though drinking it was the last thing on his mind.

"Ok, shoot," Jeff said.

"Well, uh…I don't know quite how to say this so…I think I should step down from International Rescue duty for now," Virgil said slowly as he tilted the amber whisky around his glass absentmindedly. Jeff watched him with barely disguised concern.

"Why Virgil?"

"I…I don't think I'm doing a good job. I'm distracted, I'm…" Virgil trailed off.

"What are you distracted by?" Jeff asked gently.

"I don't know," Virgil said, wincing at just how pathetic his reasoning sounded. It had sounded much better when he had recited it in front of the mirror while brushing his teeth that morning. His father seemed to understand his weariness though and sat back.

"International Rescue isn't the same without you," he said softly.

"You've coped before," Virgil shrugged, placing down the glass. He looked at his father properly for the first time since arriving in his office. Jeff was struck by just how exhausted Virgil looked, echoes of his own expression during the long four weeks he and Scott had been missing.

"Well, it isn't a permanent stand down, right?" Jeff said with a reluctant smile. "I'm sure Gordon can take good care of Thunderbird Two until things are better."

"Yeah, don't know about that," Virgil joked weakly. Jeff returned his soft smile before they drifted into an uneasy silence.

"This is about what happened, isn't it?" Jeff asked hesitantly. "I know you don't want to talk about…and that's ok, but…"

"Yeah, it is a bit. I think maybe I need more time."

"Of course. I understand son."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Kyrano had felt the sudden tensions and unease that had settled over the eldest of the Tracy sons and catching sight of a disheartened looking Virgil leaving Jeff's office, he immediately stepped in.

He thought he might already know the source of the problems the second son was having.

Kyrano found him in his studio. A soft piano provided the soothing accompaniment to his painting, an attempt to banish the haunting nightmares, the lingering terror, the unrelenting presence of Belah in his mind. He'd stepped back from rescue duty, feeling his lack of sleep meant he was a liability on the rescue.

Virgil welcomed him with a smile, casting a curious gaze at the tray he carried with him, cluttered with small cups, teaspoons and a large silver teapot.

"Usually you come armed with coffee Kyrano, but I'm always up for trying new things," Virgil half smiled. Kyrano looked at him, but didn't share his smile. Instead, his gaze was solomn and Virgil cleared his throat uncertainly.

"You seem troubled Mr. Virgil," Kyrano said as he placed the ornate teapot on his desk.

"I..." Virgil stopped, glancing back at the vivid black and red streaks that covered his canvas. It was a sharp contrast to his usual artwork. He placed the paintbrush down, sitting down on the sofa and rubbing his eyes exhaustedly.

Despite his best efforts, he couldn't help resigning himself to his true feelings in front of Kyrano. After all, wasn't he the very person that could make things better? Kyrano spoke with a worrying understanding of how Virgil had been feeling in the past months.

"He is making you nervous," Kyrano said.

"Who?" Virgil asked him, although there was only one 'he' that Kyrano could possibly be talking about. Kyrano noticed Virgil's shoulders drop, lifting his head and looking at Kyrano. Kyrano sighed inwardly as the sheer exhaustion Virgil's eyes oozed.

"Tell me Virgil." Virgil hesitated, glancing towards the doorway.

"You can trust me," Kyrano reassured him. Virgil picked at the dried, cracked skin around his nails anxiously before taking a short breath and spilling out the horrors he had been experiencing.

"I see him...he's in my head Kyrano...he did something to me in Malaysia, or in the hospital…" Kyrano stirred the tea leaves thoughtfully before Virgil stopped suddenly. Kyrano's silence allowed him to continue.

"I saw him on the last rescue. He said it was my fault Gordon almost died in the forest…that I'd sent him there. And I didn't believe him, but then I heard the audio from the rescue and I told Gordon to go into the forest…Gordon didn't even argue though…I don't know how he's doing it, but he's making me do things, try to hurt people I never would have…" There was a desperate tone to Virgil's voice, causing it to break as he got to the last words.

"What did Mr. Gordon say?" Kyrano asked him. Virgil shook his head.

"He didn't know either…" Virgil sighed. "If I hadn't been in that jungle with him, I wouldn't have believed he could do anything like that, but now…I don't know what to believe Kyrano, but…I know he has some sort of power and I think he's using it on me."

Another pause allowed Virgil to collect himself momentarily and speak the fated words that he'd tried to deny for so long.

"He's making me do things I would never do." Kyrano was silent, his attention focused on the tea that he was brewing with care.

"I...I am so scared Kyrano that he's shown me something that will happen and I..." He stopped, pressing the base of his hands into his eyes and trying to stem the tears he felt rushing against his eyes. Kyrano watched Virgil take a few deep breaths, try to calm and control the trembling.

"It's something I would never do...but why would he have shown me it..." Kyrano poured the tea, a rich mahogany colour that smelled smoky.

"He showed me...Scott being killed...and I did it...I shot him!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jeff knocked lightly on Virgil's door and was surprised to see Kyrano answering the door. He opened the door wider and Jeff could see Virgil sprawled out across his couch, sleeping peacefully. Jeff moved into the room, closing the door quietly behind him and glanced at the violent paint spatters that covered Virgil's canvases.

"I have given him something to help him sleep," Kyrano said to Jeff as he sat down beside Virgil.

"What did he say Kyrano?" Jeff asked him in a whisper. "What is it that's turned him into...well, not Virgil?"

"Belah showed him a moment in his future..." Jeff frowned, wondering just what would have terrified Virgil so much.

"His death? Someone else's?" Kyrano nodded, waiting a moment before saying the name.

"Scott's..." Jeff didn't shift his gaze from Virgil's serene face, his fingers gently stroking the soft brown hair against his neck. His eyes softened with pity as he imagined the horror that would have caused Virgil.

"Oh God...poor Virgil..."

"And Virgil killing him."


	27. A Possible Solution

_Massive apologies for the lateness in this chapter due to serious technical difficulties which resulted in a broken computer. Back now with a few updates coming soon._

Scott and Jeff sat solemnly silent in the patriarch's office, both pondering Virgil's recent actions and horrifying confessions about Belah's presence. Scott's eyes were fixed with a steely gaze on the family photograph on Jeff's desk. Jeff watched him silently clenching and unclenching his fists, a silent anger seething away inside of him. He wanted to assure Scott that whatever had happened to Virgil could be resolved and things would get better, but a sickening feeling inside told him that their dealings with Belah Gaat were not ever that straightforward.

The uncomfortable silence was broken by a soft knock at the door before Kyrano stepped into the office. The Asian man was aware of the concerns shared by father and eldest son and was quick to share his assessment of the situation.

"I believe Belah has taken hold of some part of Virgil's mind..." Kyrano spoke softly, aware of the flicker of disbelief that crossed Jeff's face.

"Was it while we were in the hospital?" Scott asked immediately. "It was when we found Virgil and he couldn't remember what had happened..." Scott sat back, feeling his father's eyes fixed on him. It was the first he had spoken of the time as Belah's captive.

"Yes...eyes are windows to the soul...this is what you say, yes? And Belah knows exactly how to abuse this."

"Why would he do this?" Scott asked him. "What is he getting out of tormenting Virgil?"

"You are also tormented?" Kyrano asked him before looking to Jeff, directing the question to both of them. "Virgil spoke of having moments where he felt Belah was in control of him…his actions, his words…"

"Oh God…Gordon," Jeff said softly. "That was Belah?" Kyrano nodded solemnly and Jeff glanced at Scott, who shared Kyrano's understanding. Jeff was suddenly aware of just how traumatic Scott and Virgil's experience might have been under Belah Gaat.

"So apart from being able to torment us…surely he wants something more than this?" Jeff asked Kyrano who hesitated before replying.

"He wants to destroy this family...and he wants to take the technology."

"We can't let that happen," Jeff declared. "What do we do Kyrano?"

"He will make the first move...Virgil is his pawn in this game..."

"Is there any way we can stop him controlling Virgil's thoughts?"

"No. Belah must let go, it is his decision. But...sometimes his victims are...not the same afterwards..."

"What do you mean...?" Scott paled as he glanced at his father, who echoed his stricken expression.

"Virgil is strong, but Belah will be reluctant to lessen his hold. If he does, it will not be easy." Jeff shook his head as Scott spoke up.

"If he does? He might not?" Scott's voice hitched uncertainly as Kyrano closed his eyes, a sign of resignation. "Kyrano..."

"He might not."

XXXXXXXXXX

Scott, Virgil, Jeff and Kyrano gathered around the dining table. Scott watched Virgil's fingers resting against the edge of the mahogany table, picking out a silent melody known only to him. His father cleared his throat, drawing both Scott and Virgil's attention back to him.

"We need to talk about what's happening to Virgil," he began hesitantly. Virgil sighed, looking down at the shiny surface of the table. Kyrano had explained what he thought was happening. Virgil had listened and nodded as he ran a new soft paint brush across his palm.

He'd suspected this since Belah had stolen five minutes with him in the hospital.

He didn't really want to admit it. It made him look weak. Belah had chosen him over Scott, because he was weaker. His father could see that. Scott could see that. Although neither of them wanted to say anything.

"Virg…" Scott said, reaching over to tap the top of his hand. Virgil glanced up at him, hooded eyes giving away very little of what he was thinking.

"It's going to be okay," Scott assured him. "We can get this fixed…" He looked to Kyrano for confirmation, but trailed off as the older man rested his calming gaze on Virgil.

"I believe Virgil should return to the village…there are some there who can help him…"

The reaction from both Jeff and Scott was exactly what Virgil would have expected. He silently watched the top of his father's cheeks redden with anger. Scott's mouth dropped open, his eyes widening in shock at Kyrano's unexpected idea. Virgil hid a wry smile; he'd agreed with Kyrano's idea as soon as he'd told him. Hadn't Manap, the man who had brutally beaten him, had exactly the same problem he was facing?

"No way is he going back there!" Scott yelled.

"Kyrano, are you crazy? You want Virgil to go back to where Belah Gaat will be?"

"This is insane. No way is this happening…" The two continued before Virgil cleared his throat.

"Hold on a minute," Virgil put in softly. "I think what happens now is my choice, right?" Father and eldest son turned and fixed Virgil with a look of disbelief. Almost identical blue eyes piecing right through him. When he was younger this was the moment he would apologise and admit he was wrong.

"Scott, you know what happened. You know what he can do. And he's done it to me. I need someone who knows to help me get rid of him."

"Virgil, you're taking a massive risk here..." Jeff protested, but he glanced at Scott who nodded towards Virgil. His face showed an understanding that Jeff didn't have. He hadn't experienced Belah's mind games, his tortures.

And reminded of the almost desperation that Virgil had oozed when asking for a period of leave from International Rescue duty, Jeff found himself nodding along with Scott.

"We've got no other choice," Virgil stated. "I've got no other choice..."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Following the decision to allow Virgil to return to the village, Jeff called the family and closest agents together. He kept Virgil's condition deliberately brief, alluding to Post Traumatic Stress rather than an evil occupying Virgil's mind.

Gordon, John and Alan were remarkably understanding, perhaps already having expected an announcement of this nature. Penelope kept her expression neutral, but Virgil could feel her gaze on him from the video screen. He managed a quick half-smile in her direction, but it wasn't returned.

"We know the risks Virgil is going to take, but having discussed the way Virgil is feeling, we simply can't continue to ignore the problems," Jeff said.

"If it can help me move on from how I feel right now, then it's worth the risk," Virgil told his family, a thankful gaze resting on his closest brother for a moment.

"Sir Jeremy has Ethan still posted out there. He seemed reluctant to leave," Penelope put in. The Tracy's glanced at her questioningly.

"Who's Ethan?" Scott voiced the question they all had.

"Ethan was one of the agents trying to locate you…" Penelope said slowly, watching Jeff glancing at her wearily. Neither Scott nor Virgil knew about the two agents in the village and the loss of one to Belah's twisted games. Jeff remembered all to clearly the sickening horror of believing the executed agent in the video, was Virgil.

"Ethan is still based in the village. His superiors consider Belah Gaat to be a significant threat to security worth further investigation. He has many connections and I'm sure he would be able to keep an eye on Virgil…" Virgil glanced up at her.

"I need looking after?" he asked her. Penelope coloured slightly before offering an apologetic smile in his direction.

"We're worried about the potential risks," Jeff put in, trying to ease the strained silence that had fallen on the room and it occupants.

"Yeah," Virgil conceded after a moment. "Well, let Ethan know I'm coming. If he's been looking for Belah Gaat, maybe he can help me."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

That evening, thoughts tumbling through his head, Virgil made his way into the living room and called Penelope.

"I'm sorry for earlier," he said as soon as she answered. "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that." She smiled an acceptance of his apology. The fleeting silence was thick with emotion.

"I miss you," she said after a moment. Virgil looked back at her, his brown eyes softening with guilt.

"I can't Penny, not now…not until…"

"You've got to put things right, I know. I understand," she interrupted him. Penelope had been given some brief details from Jeff about the complications they were facing following the experience in Malaysia. He had called it Post-Traumatic Stress, but Penelope knew that was just an excuse, a name for some trauma that could not possibly be explained. Her research into Belah Gaat had told her that he was a man who was experienced in manipulating the dark arts, a form of magik that had developed into a sinister evil in the jungle of Malaysia.

"But when this is over…if it's ever over…I'd like us to…" he trailed off, clumsily struggling over the words he'd forgotten about since Malaysia, but had kept him somewhat sane during the experience.

"I'd like that too," Penelope said with a soft smile, saving him from further embarrassment. She pressed a kiss to her lips before placing them on the screen. Virgil returned the gesture with a smile.

"Be safe Virgil," she whispered.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

The following morning, Virgil double checked the few contents of his back pack. It had been an almost sleepless night, he thought he'd caught at least an hour after his late night call to Penelope. It had been impossible to relax, the thoughts of what might happen during his return to the Malaysian jungle he'd been so glad to leave. He opened the drawer of his bedside table, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and tossing them into his pack. His eyes caught the photograph he had of Scott and himself. It was around ten years old, taken a year or so after Virgil had moved to Denver for university. Arms slung carelessly around the other, wide grins which told of their delight at having a night out together and also an indication of the amount of beer and spirits they had consumed.

He smiled at the memory before closing the door over, his contemplation disturbed by the sounds of his younger brothers gathering from breakfast. He picked up his pack and left his room, pausing as he passed Scott's bedroom door. He could hear him shuffling about inside and knocked before pressing the button to allow the doors to slide open.

"You look as tired as I feel," Scott said as the door slid shut behind Virgil.

"Yeah, you didn't sleep much either?" Scott shook his head, looking at the small pile of shirts laid out on his bed.

Virgil noted them with a half-sigh and Scott turned at the sound.

"Right, we better get going…" Scott throwing the few t-shirts into his own back pack.

"We?" Virgil asked him, hoisting his own back pack over one shoulder and smiling softly. Scott paused in his packing, squeezing a pair of socks between his hands methodically as he turned to look at his younger brother, his closest brother. He glanced down at the socks before placing them into the pack, tugging the zip closed. He pushed it back before turning once again to look at Virgil.

"Don't leave me out of this Virg…" Scott pleaded. Virgil reached out, pulling his unwilling older brother into a gentle embrace. It felt odd to Virgil to play comforter to Scott, a role reversal from the weeks and months since they had arrived home.

Scott remained stubbornly stoic in his arms and Virgil moved his head back, to press his forehead against Scott's. Scott closed his eyes, as though uncomfortable with the closeness they were sharing.

"Scott, I'm not leaving you out…"

"Then let me come with you," Scott put in, his eyes opening suddenly, blue eyes sparking in frustration. Virgil paused, letting his hand rest reassuringly between Scott's shoulder blades.

"I'm not leaving you out," Virgil repeated in a soft voice. "I just don't want to take any unnecessary risks, like Dad said."

"I don't want you doing this on your own," Scott conceded, raising his eyes to Virgil's.

"I'll be fine," Virgil assured him before letting Scott go.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

As Virgil banked the plane round, he glanced down towards the assembled group at the end of the runway. His father, Kyrano and younger brothers made their way back towards the villa. A lone figure stood, watching his progress across the sky.

Virgil couldn't see from the plane, but he knew Scott's features would be tainted with a frown, which mirrored his own.


	28. Back to Where it Began

_As promised, a quick update. Close to the end now...perhaps...! Thanks for all continuing to read and review. Most appreciated :-)_

The village had hardly changed. The same mis-matched homes, cobbled together from scrap wood and corregated tin roofs. The same muddy football pitch, a few children kicking a muddy ball between them. The same faces, lined by the outdoor living, the harsh lifestyle, the hard jobs on the land they carried out for long hours under the blazing sun or torrential rain.

Virgil saw the blonde haired English agent before he noticed him and took a moment to observe his contact silently. Ethan, as Penny had called him, was hunched over a battered wooden table, outside of the café. The same café that many of the villagers had taken shelter in during the rescue almost a year before. He glanced up, as though aware he was being watched and caught Virgil's gaze. He nodded as Virgil made his way towards him, not entirely sure what to make of Ethan's torn t-shirt and tattered shorts. Virgil glanced down at his own attire, ripped jeans and shabby baseball shoes.

"You must be Ethan?" Virgil asked him, extending his hand.

"Virgil, right?" Ethan asked, accepting the offered hand. The two shook hands formally, before Ethan gestured towards the small cafe he'd emerged from.

"Can I get you a drink?" he asked. "Kiri's got a fine selection of local beers."

"A selection?" Virgil asked. Ethan half smiled and shrugged apologetically.

"Well, one. Two sometimes if the supply truck has got through." Virgil smiled and followed Ethan to the cafe, smiling warmly at the owner, Kiri, who regarded him cautiously. Virgil understood their reluctance to embrace a stranger into their village, particularly after what the last stranger had taken from them.

"You have been here before," Kiri said as he approached the two men with glasses and dusty green bottles. Virgil eyed him wearily before nodding.

"I remember," Kiri said. "You are brave coming back. Many never escape their fate here, never mind return to it." Ethan regarded his companion momentarily before Virgil spoke.

"I need to see Manap," he said. Kiri seemed to understand the significance of the request and nodded silently, shuffling towards the edge of the village.

"Manap?" Ethan asked. Virgil filled his glass to the brim with the frothy beer and took a sip of it. It was surprisingly refreshing in the heat of mid afternoon.

"Someone I had some contact with here before," Virgil explained vaguely. Ethan didn't ask any more questions, both savouring their beers in silence.

Ethan placed the stained tumbler back on the table. He looked at home amongst the people of the village, they had accepted him as one of their own, someone that would help them and prevent this demon from ever taking hold of them. He could even converse in their local dialect.

"I'm glad you agreed to come back," Ethan told him. "I wanted to meet you…but I hear it's a rare event." Virgil half smiled before taking a sip of the warm beer he'd been given.

"It was more for my sake than yours," Virgil told him honestly. Ethan pulled out a pack of local cigarettes, offering Virgil one. He accepted, the taste of the tobacco warm and familiar against his tongue.

"My colleague out here hated me smoking. I didn't ever do it in front of him…"

"Sounds like my brother," Virgil commented. "Where's your colleague? Is he here?" Ethan glanced up at him in surprise.

"You don't know?"

"Know what?" Virgil asked. Ethan stubbed out his cigarette abruptly, shaking his head in wonder.

"It was all about you…he took Jack because Jack has the same look at you and he shot Jack so that people would think it was you!" Ethan cried out.

"What do you mean so people would think it was me?" Virgil asked him, grabbing his arm tightly to prevent him from walking away. Ethan hesitated, suddenly realising that in front of him was a man with friends, at least one brother that he had mentioned, a family, a girlfriend or wife perhaps. All of whom would have witnessed the video and had to deal with the fall out afterwards.

They hadn't told Virgil for a reason.

"It doesn't matter…"

"Of course it matters," Virgil interrupted. "What happened to your colleague?"

"They released an execution video," Ethan said after a weighted silence. "They thought it was one of you that had been killed…they thought it was you. No one knew at that point that Jack was missing. When they found you and the other International Rescue guy, it all fitted together. And now that I see you…it makes even more sense…"

"Who was it released to?"

"Everyone," Ethan replied. Virgil let his arm go as he let his breath out in a shaky half sob.

"Oh God…" Scott's words when they'd spoken with Kyrano came flooding back. Belah had told him he'd shot him and let Scott suffer for however long not knowing the truth. The very thought made Virgil feel sick.

"I'm really sorry…I said too much, I just…no one ever talks about it, apart from here." Virgil shook his head with a shaky smile.

"No, it's okay. It's just…I can't believe they had to see that…" He rubbed his face with his hands, reminding himself that despite everything that had happened, Scott and he were alive. Not quite well, yet.

"What was his name, your colleague?"

"Jack," Ethan smiled. "What about your colleague?"

"Scott."

"Me and Jack, we were like brothers, you know? Always second guessing each other and joking around. It was a relief to have him out here with me when we were investigating cases…what about you and Scott?"

"Yeah, the same," Virgil smiled. "I don't know what I'd have done if he hadn't been there with me…" He glanced down at the dusty floor, a momentary feeling of guilt clouding his mind for a moment. He hadn't wanted to leave Scott, he wanted him there more than anything else, but he was scared of his dreams. In the nightmare he killed Scott surrounded by the almost familiar trees and animals of the forest.

If he'd brought him, he'd be playing it exactly how Belah would want it.

"Ethan, why are you still out here?" Virgil asked him suddenly.

"Everything is messed up here. People talk of demons and I was skeptical, but I've seen this man for myself. I've heard

what happened to him...he needs to be stopped."

"You want to find the man that killed Jack?"

"Yeah, that too."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Scott's exhausted features were highlighted by the blue glow from his laptop screen. It was three thirty in the morning. There had been no rescue, there were no potential situations that required monitoring, therefore no reason for Scott Tracy to be wearily scrolling through pages of text on his laptop screen. Kyrano cleared his throat softly and Scott glanced over his shoulder.

"Good evening…or should I say, good morning?" Kyrano said with a smile, making his way into the kitchen.

"It's morning," Scott confirmed, tearing his eyes from the pages he had spent hours typing. Kyrano looked at it and back at Scott.

"It's uh, some follow up from the rescue the other day." Kyrano nodded, beginning to prepare fresh coffee. Scott watched him carefully grinding the coffee beans before he spoke.

"Why are you so sure Virgil will get help back in the village?" Kyrano didn't pause in his work as he spoke.

"The people from the village know how to deal with the problems Virgil is experiencing." Scott let out a snort of laughter before turning back and typing another few sentences into his report, his fingers clicking quickly over the keys. He stopped when Kyrano placed a mug of coffee in front of him, placing the sugar bowl down beside it.

"I don't know if I trust all this voodoo magic stuff you are talking about," Scott said finally.

"In such a time of science and technology, we forget the spiritual, the natural beliefs that once were the problems and answers to everything." Scott pondered over his answer before nodding.

"You are allowed to be honest with me. I understand." Kyrano's soft soothing tones caused Scott to look up at him, cupping his hands around his mug. He cleared his throat, uttering words he would never have shared with anyone else in the household.

"I'm scared, Kyrano." Kyrano looked at Scott, hunched over his third cup of coffee. He'd hardly slept since Virgil had left two days previously, alone, without him despite his constant protests.

"It is all right to be scared," Kyrano told him. "Virgil is also scared. But neither of you would tell the other this, am I right?" Scott managed a sheepish grin before his eyes returned to his laptop screen, the link to Virgil's laptop remaining closed. Kyrano followed his gaze.

"He will be okay."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Manap pulled Virgil into a warm embrace, as though he were a long lost relative. Guntur watched from a distance, his face soft in the flickering candle light. Manap gestured towards his brother, explaining in faltered English who he was.

"My brother. He cure me." Virgil glanced towards Guntur, his dark skin shimmering in the candlelight of his home. He stepped forward, extending his hand to Virgil. Virgil remained motionless, his eyes fixed on the enchanting man before him.

"Virgil. Manap told me many things about you and your brother. Very close...very strong." Guntur's deep voice rumbled around the small room.

"You escaped from Belah Gaat," Guntur added with a warm smile. "Until you, Manap was the only person that had done this."

"I think Belah has…" Virgil trailed off, still not entirely sure what to believe. Scott's initial thoughts of Post Traumatic Stress made sense, but Kyrano knew better than anyone the influence that Belah Gaat could have on anyone.

"I think he is in my head…in here…" Virgil placed a hand over his chest, swallowing nervously as Guntur quickly translated for Manap. Manap looked at Virgil with understanding dark eyes, nodding. He placed a strong, reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"My brother knows…he has experienced this too…while you were held captive by Belah," Guntur told him.

"Is he still…there?" Virgil asked uncertainly. Guntur shook his head with a triumphant smile.

"No. I banished his presence from Manap's mind and soul. In the village, this knowledge is passed down through families." Virgil echoed Guntur's smile.

"Could you banish him from me?" Virgil asked him. Guntur's smile faded as he placed his own hand on Virgil's chest. He closed his eyes and Virgil felt his heart rate increasing, it felt like his breath was being pushed out from his lungs, forcing him to stumble slightly. Manap reached out to steady him as Guntur stepped back.

"He is there," he spoke solomnly.

"Can you get rid of him?" Virgil asked, catching his breath. Guntur frowned, rubbing his hand across his chin.

"I have to be honest. I am not sure. He has taken a strong hold of you…he is reluctant to let go. You have a powerful mind for him to use. You are someone of great influence in Belah's grand plan of destruction." Virgil's face fell and Guntur saw the flicker of fear cross Virgil's face before it was quickly disguised.

"My friend, I will try everything in my power."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

The room was filled with candles and a bed. Guntur pushed the cup into Virgil's hand, closing his fingers around it and smiling reassuringly.

"I cannot tell you that this will be easy friend, but you must trust me…" Virgil glanced down at the black steaming liquid before glancing back at Guntur.

"I do trust you," he said, Guntur gestured towards the bed and Virgil sat on it before bringing the cup to his lips. The smell alone was enough to turn Virgil's stomach. He closed his eyes and downed the liquid in one swift go. The liquid was foul tasting, bitter and sickly sweet all at the same time. He leaned forward, groaning in repulsion, his body shuddering as the liquid burned a path down into his stomach.

"I know," Guntur smiled before helping Virgil lie back against the bed.

"The drink will take hold soon. Do not fight it Virgil, you must trust me…"

"I trust you…" Virgil gasped out as the light around him seemed to intensify.

The liquid seemed to be bubbling inside his gut, a burning sensation filling his insides and spreading out along his arms to his fingers, down his legs to his toes.

It hurt.

Virgil's body arched up from the bed and he squeezed his eyes shut.

A pained cry echoed throughout the forest.


	29. Another Rescue

His return to the real world was slow, he felt as though he was pulling himself through deep water, slowly making his way to the surface, noises around him were muffled and distant.

He cautiously opened his eyes, his eyes slowly settling and focusing on the flickering lantern light above him.

"Guntur?" he called out, his voice was hoarse, grating in his throat.

"You are awake. Good." In the periphery of his vision, Virgil saw the tall man move towards him, clucking softly, almost soothingly.

"I saw him…" Virgil whispered. "Is he still here?" Guntur placed a cool cloth on Virgil's forehead, soothing him softly.

"We won't know just yet Virgil," he said softly, smiling as Virgil's eyes closed sleepily. Guntur's medicines were powerful, able to bring on the most haunting of visions, but also able to expel bad demons and thoughts. He could only hope the second had occurred.

John kept his eyes fixed on the yellow flickering dot that indicated Virgil's location in the depths of the Malaysian jungle. As long as the blip was there, he knew Virgil was okay. Even if there had been no contact from his brother since he'd left the island days before. The background noise of the conversations across the world were slowly filtered out, until John was focused on those coming from the nearest cities to Virgil's current location. Business as usual by all accounts. John half smiled before sitting back, returning to his powdered scrambled eggs. He would keep an eye on his brother.

Manap watched Virgil sitting on a clean log that acted as a makeshift bench. He could see him trembling slightly, the aftermath of Guntur's medicines and the haunting visions they had brought on still lingering. Manap had an intimate understanding of Virgil's experience, having gone though it himself. Although Virgil's bruises and cuts that Manap himself had caused had long faded, he knew the experience still plagued his mind. Manap often thought back to those moments, they were blurry as though recalling a dream he'd once had.

Manap turned away, rolling his dried tobacco in a banana leaf and lighting it, smiling and offering to Guntur it as he stepped into the doorway. He held his hand up in a silent refusal, watching their visitor huddled on the log.

"Did it work?" Manap asked him softly. Guntur sighed deeply.

"Belah...his energy is focused on only Virgil. I hope I have done enough to release his mind, but..."

"Time will tell, but you have not failed yet," Manap assured him, stepping back inside their home to prepare their breakfast. Guntur watched Virgil for a moment longer before joining him on the log.

"How do you feel?" Guntur asked him.

"I don't know," Virgil replied. "Should I feel any different?" Guntur smiled.

"As long as you don't feel ill. The potions can be very strong. They sometimes upset stomachs of people not used to their flavour."

"It has a very distinctive taste," Virgil agreed, trying not to relive the smell and taste of the potion.

"Yes, very," Guntur laughed in agreement. He trailed off as Virgil glanced at him.

"But if it's worked, it's got to have been worth that."

They sat in thoughtful silence, letting the natural sounds of the jungle fill the space between them. Even during the most awful times in Belah's captivity, Virgil had found the sounds almost soothing.

They were aware of something not right when the soft sounds grew in volume, the screeching of animals around them like an alarm.

The next was the sight of something horrific, a black cloud appearing above the canopy beside them.

The smoke spread upwards, the deep orange glow of flames illuminating the cloud in the early morning light. Virgil and Guntur watched the spectacle in a stunned silence for a moment before the roaring noise suddenly tore the silence apart.

Virgil had experienced enough rescues to know when an explosion had taken place. It had happened in the village.

The ground shuddered beneath them and Virgil instantly pushed himself to his feet. Guntur and Manap followed, the three running the short distance to the village. Around them, animals screeched and the sound of screams and shouts from the village reached them.

Virgil pushed through the villagers running in the opposite direction, trying to escape the attack. Their faces stained with soot and mud, their eyes wide in terror.

"No, no, no..." Manap moaned as they approached the village, the stench of smouldering wood catching the back of their throats. They pushed back the overgrown vegetation and all three stopped, stunned by the devastation in front of them.

There was hardly one building left standing.

Manap glanced at Guntur who rested a solemn gaze on their visitor.

"It is him, Virgil." Virgil tore his eyes away from the carnage. Guntur was touched to see them shimmering with unshed tears.

"I know," Virgil acknowledged reluctantly.

Jeff found Scott surrounded by wrenches, screwdrivers and oil stained clothes in the cockpit of his Thunderbird. He was muttering softly as he adjusted the fitting of one of the many instruments which cluttered his flight deck.

"Knock knock," Jeff said softly as he approached the doorway. Scott still jumped, dropping his screwdriver with a clatter to the ground. Jeff winced apologetically, but Scott shrugged it off.

"The upgrade could have waited," Jeff said.

"I thought I'd use the downtime we've got to do it. We don't normally get a guaranteed break." He turned back to the instrument panel, but stopped and Jeff placed a hand on his arm.

"Have you heard anything from Virgil?" he asked. Scott stiffened slightly before he shook his head.

"I'm sure he's doing just fine," Jeff tried to assure him, but Scott turned on him.

"I wish he'd let us know then," Scott muttered. As if on cue, Jeff's wrist communicator beeped, a signal from John in Thunderbird 5.

"Go ahead John," Jeff answered.

"I'm monitoring communications in , the nearest large settlement to where Virgil is...there's been some sort of attack on the village..."

"What kind of attack?" Jeff demanded.

"It sounds like there have been a series of explosions...it's almost identical to the last attack that took place when we were called out there..." John trailed off as Jeff closed his eyes momentarily. He caught Scott's drained expression out of the corner of his eye. As John began to speak, Jeff kept his gaze fixed on his eldest, who was barely keeping control of his emotions. A tiny twitch at the corner of his eye could be detected as he fought back panic.

"I wanted to call it in to you first Dad, to see what you thought would be best...I didn't want to worry Scott..."

"Too late," Scott's voice drifted across the cramped space of the cockpit.

"Don't worry John, Scott. We need to gather and decide what course of action to take. We need some confirmation of the details of this attack and whether or not our services are required..."

"Of course they're required!" Scott interrupted. "Virgil's out there!"

"Hold on, Scott...it's not that easy. Remember what lengths Gaat is prepared to go to in order to bring this organisation down."

"I knew this would happen. I told him not to go without me...Kyrano has let him walk right into this!" Scott snapped. Jeff grabbed his arm in a strong grip, pulling him back.

"No Scott," he said, his voice firm. "Virgil chose to go. He also chose to go alone and he knew the risks he was taking. This is no one's fault, but Belah's."

"I need to go," Scott said, his voice softer, his eyes almost pleading with his father.

"And you will son," Jeff assured him.

Guntur and Virgil picked their way through the rubble that cluttered the main square. Virgil felt his stomach turn as he watched scenes that were almost identical to ones he'd witnessed here, almost one year before. Guntur took his arm, pulling him away from a tower of rubble, swaying precariously and preparing to tumble at any moment.

"This is too much like before," Virgil told him. Guntur nodded.

"He knows you are here and he knows you are trying to escape from his clutches Virgil," Guntur said. "This is to try and entice you and your organisation back here, allow him to carry out his threats..."

"Guntur! Virgil!" a sudden shout from ahead of them startled them into a run as they approached a jumbled mess of shattered concrete and wood. Manap was pulling away splintered wood, blood seeping from open cuts in his hands.

"Kiri and Ethan!" he explained as Guntur and Kiri joined him in trying to pull their friends from the rubble. Some of the men from the village joined them, their voices calling to one another in a language Virgil didn't understand, but he felt the anger, the desperation in their voices. He reached into a gap in the rubble and felt a bloody hand close around his.

"I've got someone!" he called out, working with the others to clear the rubble from around the figure. He saw the dusty blonde hair and knelt down.

"Ethan, we've got you," he said softly, in his best reassuring voice. Ethan glanced up at him with a lopsided smile, shifting slightly to reveal the small body of Kiri huddled beside him.

"Get Kiri first..." Ethan said and Virgil nodded understandingly. Guntur and Manap reached in, Guntur helping Kiri to his feet, holding him up as he gazed upon the smashed structure that had previously been his home. Virgil took Ethan's hand, hauling him up. His eyes caught the blood streaming down his temple and quickly ripped the sleeve from his shirt, placing it against the cut. Ethan wiped the blood from his cheek and glanced wearily at Virgil.

"It's not too bad," Virgil told him, gingerly clearing the mud from Ethan's wound as he looked at the mangled remains of the village he'd spent so long in becoming part of.

"What are we going to do?" Ethan asked Virgil, pressing the cloth over his head.

"There are not enough men to help everyone. We need help," Kiri said softly. Virgil glanced at Guntur who shrugged helplessly. Virgil glanced at the chaos surrounding them and swallowed thickly. Sighing deeply, he turned back to Ethan, knowing he was leading them into a dangerous situation.

"I'm going to call International Rescue."


	30. Calling International Rescue

_Well, we've made it to the last stretch! Only a couple of chapters left, but there's still much more to come! _

_Thanks, as always, for the reviews_

International Rescue's technology made even the isolated village accessible and Virgil was greeted by the relieved, if worried faces of his father and brothers on the tiny screen of his wrist communicator. He'd packed it in his rucksack and hadn't planned to use it, but with the unexpected and ominous turn of events, he felt that he had no other choice.

After reassuring his family that he was okay and hadn't suffered any injuries himself, he was quick to explain the situation.

"There have been three separate explosions…along with the rain, there's a real risk of mudslides. Things are desperate out here...it's just as bad as the last attack...maybe worse, I'm not sure yet."

"They'll need our help," Scott said as they heard voices from Virgil's communicator, calling to him. Virgil glanced towards the voice, nodding quickly and giving some quick instructions on how to stem severe blood flow. He looked back towards his communicator.

"I have to go help them…"

"Virgil…no…" Jeff protested, but he knew it fell on deaf ears and Virgil shot him an apologetic smile and cut his transmission.

"Do you think it was Belah Gaat?" Gordon asked, turning to face Scott. Scott's face hardened, hiding a worry that had lingered since Virgil had left him to go to the village alone.

"It's got all the signature details," he confirmed after a moment.

"Does this mean we don't go?" Alan asked pensively. Scott turned on him, shaking his head and looked to John's video feed for support.

"We are there for whoever needs our help, no matter what has caused it."

"Or who has caused it," John added weakly.

"This is your call boys," Jeff said after a moment. "I will understand if you feel it's too risky." Scott glanced up to where Kyrano hovered in the doorway. A small nod of his head.

"I'm not leaving Virgil out there. I'm going. It's up to you if you want to follow me."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As Virgil cut the transmission on his communicator, he leaned forward, resting his shoulders against his knees and placing his head in his hands before dragging his fingers through the scruffy curls of his brown hair. He felt Guntur place a solid hand on his shoulder, a silent acknowledgement that he understood the difficulty of calling in his colleagues.

"Why do I feel I'm doing exactly what he wants?" Virgil asked with a sigh, sitting back in the rickety chair.

"Because you are," Guntur replied simply. "He knows your organisation cannot ignore an emergency like this one." Virgil rubbed his face with his hands, groaning softly.

"He's going to hurt them and I've brought them here," Virgil admitted. "I need to end it before he does. What can I do?" Guntur let his hand drop from Virgil's shoulder.

"You would need to get rid of him completely," Guntur said slowly as Virgil nodded, listening intently.

"So what, I have to kill him?" Virgil asked, his eyes flickering uncertainly with the idea of taking the life of another when his job was to protect lives no matter who they were.

"Belah Gaat is more than just his body," Guntur said softly.

"I don't understand..."

"If you destroy Belah's body, you must also make sure the demon is also destroyed."

"Ok, how do I do that?" Virgil asked.

"No one knows" Guntur said. "I don't know of anyone who knows this." Virgil's face fell before he got to his feet, lifting his wrist communicator and putting it on.

"So we can't get rid of him?" Virgil asked.

"If you destroy the body that holds such a demon, you risk setting it free."

"Where does it go?"

"It finds another body. To put it simply, if you kill him, you risk becoming him."

XXXXXXX

It took Scott an hour to reach the village, he'd pushed his 'bird to her maximum speed, desperate to find Virgil before he was lost again. He'd landed amidst chaotic scenes in the village, similar to the last scenes he'd witnessed there. Ten minutes after he had left the island, John had contacted him to say Gordon and Alan were following in Thunderbird 2 armed with medical provisions and heavy lifting equipment. At least they could try and salvage some of those trapped beneath the collapsed homes.

As the rain continued, Scott stepped out from beneath the shelter offered by the outstretched wing of his 'bird, grimacing as he felt his uniform sticking to him almost instantly. The rain and subsequent mud would make any rescue more difficult. He cast his eyes around the familiar backdrop to their more challenging of rescues and immediately spotted his closest brother running, full-pelt, towards him. Virgil skidded across the muddy ground into Scott, who seized him in a fierce embrace.

"I'm so glad you're here," Virgil mumbled into his shoulder. Scott couldn't help but smile.

"Grandma's going to have words with you about the mess you've made of my uniform…" Scott managed to joke, coughing to clear the lump in his throat.

"We need to help Scott, there's still people trapped…" Virgil turned away, but Scott pulled him back, cupping his face in his hand.

"Did it work? Kyrano's way?" Virgil hesitated.

"I don't know yet. Guntur and Manap weren't sure…" he trailed off with a helpless shrug before looking back at the muddy victims making their way towards them.

"We need to help…" Virgil tried again and this time Scott nodded. Pausing for a moment as he pulled out Virgil's earpiece from his pocket.

"Brains and Dad insisted you had this," Scott smiled. Virgil glanced at it before placing it into his right ear.

"International Rescue, this is Virgil, do you read me?" Scott returned Virgil's grin as they heard the cheers and whoops from their younger brothers.

"Good to have you back Virgil. You had us worried there for a while."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Guntur's words echoed over in his head as Virgil watched a family gathered over the broken, motionless bodies of their children. He'd spoken of the necessity to remove not only Belah's physical presence, but the demon that seemed to reside inside of him. It was a risk, but one he felt had to be taken to save the village, to save those who would be harmed by him in the future, to save his own family.

He turned away from the scene, kicking past rubble as he made his way towards the forest.

Somehow, he knew that Belah waited for him.

"Virgil!" Ethan called to him and he paused momentarily. He didn't want to try and explain his desire to chase Belah Gaat down, responding as much as he hated it, to the temptations thrown in his path. Belah had tormented and tortured him for a year and he could only see one way to end it.

"Don't Ethan..." he protested as the young man moved towards him. He held out his hand, a solid black pistol resting in his palm. MI5 issue. Penelope had one much the same. Virgil glanced between it and him.

"You might need this." Virgil shook his head, preparing to return it when Ethan pushed his hand back, shaking his head. Virgil noticed the tell-tale shimmer of tears in the young man's eye. He wasn't the only one who had been tormented by Belah Gaat.

"Kill him."

XXXXXXXXXXX

Alan worked alongside Guntur to treat some of the move severe injuries. Guntur using flowers, pastes made from berries and brewing noxious smelling liquids as Alan stitched open wounds and bandaged up grazed and scrapes.

"Do those actually work?" Alan asked Guntur skeptically, nodding towards his medicines. Guntur smiled as he held up a bright purple flower for Alan to look at.

"The curing qualities of our plants are passed down through generations. It is all we have here, we have no hospital, no surgeons. We use these to do what we can."

"I've seen these before...I'm pretty sure Kyrano, our friend, grows these back home..." Alan said, turning the flower over in his hand.

"It is a powerful plant, it can expel toxins from the body," Guntur said as Alan handed it back. He turned as he heard rapid footsteps running towards them. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Scott, his face smudged with reddish mud.

"Hey, I think we're almost done here," Alan said to him, but Scott brushed by him, approaching the native man.

"Guntur, have you seen Virgil?" Guntur looked up and shook his head, looking at where Ethan watched them wearily. Scott stepped towards him purposefully, but Guntur placed a restraining hand on his arm.

"He said..." Ethan edged back as Scott fixed him with a piercing glare. Ethan glanced towards the usually friendly and understanding face of Guntur, but his expression was clouded with grave concern.

"He's going after Belah Gaat..." Ethan reluctantly answered. Scott barrelled forward, grabbing Ethan's shirt and shaking him

"What the hell?" Scott yelled. "And you just let him go?"

"I understand why he needs to find him," Ethan returned. "He killed my partner, he's destroyed this village...twice now. Virgil wants to end this and I don't blame him." Scott let Ethan go, pushing him back.

"He'll kill him," Scott said, turning to Guntur. He shook his head solemnly.

"I fear something much worse."

XXXXXXXXXXX

Virgil had been walking for about an hour. He picked his way through disguised paths, following his instincts which told him he was getting closer.

He felt the trees shift around him, the jungle sounds seemed to intensify. His fear tasted bitter on his tongue. The shadow he'd followed shifted before him, moving towards the rushing river and Virgil followed.

The whisper of a chant filled the air, echoing as the wind carried it back along the river towards him. Belah was taunting him and Virgil clenched his fists, summoning some strength.

He stood before him, eyes gleaming in the fading light. Virgil rolled his shoulder's back, holding his head up and staring directly into his eyes.

"I knew you would appear here," he said.

"I know," Virgil replied easily. "Kyrano told me everything about you."

"He is weak. Like you." The corner of Virgil's mouth turned up in a small smile as he took a firm grip of the pistol Ethan had given him, raising it up so it pointed at the man before him.

"Your mind tricks don't work on me."

"I own your mind Virgil..."

"Uh-uh, not now…" Virgil said defiantly, stepping forward. "You don't have anything over me. Go on, try it!" Belah laughed, turning away from Virgil.

"You think some forest potion is powerful enough to stop me? I've been in hiding for a while Virgil, but I haven't gone anywhere. How do you think you ended up here?"

"Bullshit!" Virgil yelled, but he wasn't entirely convinced anymore as he watched Belah move towards him. There was no way he'd have been able to navigate through the jungle on his own. Hadn't he felt some kind of sense that he was being guided towards Belah. He shook the doubt from his mind, cocking a smile.

"I'm here to finish you," Virgil said, gripping the pistol tightly.

"You don't have the nerve. Kill me and you risk becoming me."

"Shut up," Virgil responded, his voice becoming raised to hide the slight tremble.

"Perhaps you already are me...remember what happened to Gordon..."

"You son of a..." Virgil rushed forward, slamming the side of the pistol against Belah's head. Belah stumbled back and Virgil pounced, pinning him to the slimy carpet of leaves. He pressed the pistol against the side of Belah's head, strong enough to leave a lingering mark.

"Do you want to take the risk?" Belah asked him.

"If I kill you, my brothers will be safe, the village will be safe...hell, the whole world would be safer without you," Virgil spat into his face. Belah sneered.

"But then when I establish myself again...in your body, Virgil..."

"That's why I'm not going to kill you," Virgil interrupted, pushing himself to his feet, chest heaving as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I'm going to put you somewhere you will never leave, you'll rot on your own. No one will ever have to deal with you again. No one will ever find you again." He pointed the pistol at Belah again, motioning for him to stand up. Belah remained on the ground and Virgil lost his patience, grabbing the coloured tunic at the shoulder and hauling the sturdy man upwards.

The punch caught him by surprise, and he stumbled to the side, trying to grab hold of Belah and punch him back. His weak punches were easily deflected and Virgil was floored by a second punch. Belah hooked his foot under his chest flipping him on to his back before standing over him, placing a stilling foot on his chest.

"You made that too easy."

"Get the hell off of me!" Virgil yelled out as Belah swooped down.

"You've been having nightmares about killing your brother," he said. "It was so nice of you to help me bring them to life for you…"

"No!" Virgil yelled out, trying desperately to push Belah from him. He gripped his neck with bruising force, pushing him back against the soggy ground.

Virgil saw the momentary glimmer in Belah's eyes, but it was too late for him to do anything.


	31. Belah's Revenge

_A quick Easter update for you! Thanks to all readers and reviewers. Hope you enjoy this next chapter_

Virgil woke and couldn't move. His hands were pinned behind him as he lay on a muddy floor. The scent of decaying vegetation filling his nostrils. His tongue darted out, tasting flakes of dried blood crusted on his lips, the lingering sting from Belah's punch. He arched his head round to see his wrists bound tightly and he felt his stomach twist nervously.

"Shit..." he cursed in a groan. He'd done exactly as Belah would have wanted, ignored the warnings from Kyrano, from Guntur and made the decision to chase Belah down while he was angry, tired and definitely not thinking straight. He was now Belah's prisoner once again and, worst of all, he had put his brothers in danger.

As he turned back, he took stock of his surroundings. The sharp lines of sunlight that ran across the floor were caused by the wooden walls. Above him were fingers of leafy green palms, which served as a roof.

His breath caught in his throat and he was unable to let the moan escape from between his lips.

He was in the very same hut he and Scott had been tortured in before.

The very same hut from his nightmares. All that was missing was Scott. But he wasn't too far away.

And as soon as he realised Virgil had gone, Scott would make his way to where Belah wanted him.

He let his eyes drift shut, trying desperately to remember the words Guntur had shared with him, the words he thought would help protect him. He struggled to remember anything past the moment he'd stumbled across Belah Gaat again.

"Come on…come on…" he urged himself.

The door to the hut rattled open and Virgil turned his head to see Belah closing over the door. Virgil pushed himself into a sitting position, drawing his knees up to his chest as Belah approached him. Once again, Virgil caught a glimpse of the faint glimmer in Belah's eyes and he stubbornly closed his, in the hope that he could avoid the haunting gaze and losing his own control, letting his mind be taken once again by Belah. He heard him chuckle softly, the coarse material of his tunic rustling as he moved closer.

"Your brother will be here soon." The voice was close to his ear. Virgil couldn't help, but open his eyes, turning to Belah to plead for the life of his older brother.

"Don't...just leave him, do whatever you want with me, but leave Scott..." He was stopped suddenly by a backhand from Belah, sending him sprawling across the ground. As Belah leaned over him, Virgil squeezed his eyes shut, knowing what was coming next.

"Look at me." Virgil refused, moaning out in protest as Belah gripped his throat.

"Look at me!" The snapped command, combined with the pressure on his wind pipe forced Virgil to open his eyes and immediately he was trapped by Belah's gaze.

He fought against the pressure that engulfed his thoughts, trying to push Belah's voice, his presence from his mind.

His head began to ache and his body trembled in the blinding pain that washed over him in waves.

"It's so much easier if you just let me..." Belah said as he saw Virgil giving up, the pain weakening him and he was able to take hold of him. He released his grip from his throat and stepped back, taking a moment to enjoy the peace.

Virgil gazed at the ceiling above him, eyes sightless and tainted with a faint yellow, the only sign of Belah's hold on him. He cut the ropes around his wrists, discarding the tattered twine. He smiled, reaching into his tunic and removing the pistol Virgil had been armed with. He placed it into his hand, closing his fingers around it.

"When Scott comes through that door, you will shoot him," Belah said softly to his victim. "Once he is dead, you will leave, go back to the village and tell your younger brothers and your family that I did it. Return to your island and remove the rest of them. Switch off the life support on your satellite. Unlock all security protocols. Cut all transmissions to your island."

Belah stopped as he gave his instructions a moment to settle in Virgil's thoughts.

"Kill my half brother. Then kill yourself."

Virgil was silent. He blinked slowly, but gave no response. Belah stepped closer.

"Do you understand me?" Belah asked him. Virgil blinked once again before he moved his lips, a whispered confirmation making Belah smile.

"Yes."

XXXXXXXXXX

Kyrano had the bubbling feeling of uncertainty, a feeling that his half brother had just become a little stronger. He hadn't felt his presence for a number of days and while some may have seen this as a blessing, Kyrano could only worry about where he was concentrating his presence now. He watched Jeff closely as Scott called in from the rescue area. Kyrano closed his eyes, expecting bad news.

"Father, I haven't had contact with Virgil for about an hour now."

"He's with Belah," Kyrano said softly and Jeff's face fell.

"I knew this would happen…" he groaned, putting his head in his hands.

"We've been told he went after Belah...I don't even know where to start..." Scott looked lost, his eyes finding Kyrano's and silently pleading with him to offer some of his wisdom, his guidance.

"You do know," Kyrano's spoke softly. "You must find the camp, Scott. He is waiting for you."

"You can't possibly send Scott back there...not after what Virgil dreamt about," Jeff protested.

"What did he dream about?" Scott asked.

"Virgil's nightmares? They're about killing you Scott," Jeff said slowly. "I wouldn't have thought anything of them, but with everything that has happened...with Belah's influence...I don't want you putting yourself right where he wants the two of you."

"I've got to go," Scott interrupted. "For Virgil's sake. Please." Jeff kept his head in his hands and allowed Kyrano to speak to Scott.

"You must get to him quickly," Kyrano warned. "I fear Belah's hold on Virgil may be stronger than ever." Despite the balmy heat of the jungle, Scott shuddered.

"What do I do, Kyrano?" he asked. "How do I get him back?"

"Just get him out of there Scott and then we can worry about it," Jeff ordered. "Don't let Belah have his own way here. Do whatever it takes to get you and Virgil out of there. Whatever it takes." Jeff emphasised the last words again and Scott nodded, understanding the meaning behind them.

XXXXXXXXX

Gordon checked the camera and microphone were both working and transmitting before stepping back. His usually jovial features were tainted with a frown, weary eyes meeting the steely blue ones of his eldest brother. Scott checked over his equipment, going through the motions to try and still his mind, trying to keep down the worry he felt in the pit of his stomach.

"Video and audio both transmitting clearly, Scott," John told him from Thunderbird 5.

"FAB," Scott replied shortly, turning to Gordon who packed the remaining audio and video equipment back into their cases.

"I should be coming with you..." he said softly. Scott glanced up at him and shook his head briskly.

"No. I don't want to take any risks Gordon. You need to be here. You'll see everything I do...if any help is needed, well, you can call it, ok?"

"I don't like this Scott...what if Virgil..."

"No Gordon," Scott interrupted. "Virgil is strong. There is no way he'd just let Belah take over. He'll be fine once we get him back." Gordon looked skeptical, but relented as Alan stepped into the cockpit of Thunderbird 2, followed by the MI5 agent, Ethan.

"I just want to apologise..." Ethan began, but a nudge from Alan silenced him as Scott turned on him.

"Sorry isn't going to make this situation any better," Scott snapped. "You've been snooping around Virg and I since this whole thing began. You just didn't know when to back off and leave things. And now, thanks to your determination to get rid of Belah Gaat, you've sent my brother straight to him." Gordon and Alan watched the face of the agent fall, his lips trembling as he tried to explain. They knew that while Scott was speaking calmly, his voice level and controlled, he was harbouring a fury that could erupt at any moment. They chose to stay silent.

"You don't understand..."

"Oh, I think I understand perfectly," Scott interrupted. "What's this worth? A promotion? A bigger pay cheque? A bigger office?" He began making his way to the lift to take him back to the forest floor.

"He killed someone close to me," Ethan replied. Scott paused, glancing over his shoulder at Ethan. He nodded sharply before the lift doors opened.

"Well, 'm going to find my brother and I hope, for your sake, he's still alive."

XXXXXXXXXX

The clearing was exactly as it had been almost a year before. Very much aware of his brothers and father watching everything Scott was seeing, listening to every breath, he closed his mind off from the horrific memories flooding him.

The palms from the overgrown trees surrounding the clearing stirred restlessly as Scott moved towards the second of the two wooden huts, the very hut where Belah had tortured him with the lies that Virgil was dead.

Scott could only wonder what horrors Belah had in store for him this time.

He paused as he caught sight of the hut in the middle of the clearing. He was about to call out to Virgil, but stopped. It was so quiet, eerily calm and still, that he was afraid to disturb it. He stepped closer to the hut, hovering at the edge before he peered inside.

The hut was empty apart from the lone figure standing at the back, partially hidden in the shadows. Even from a distance, Scott could see him trembling.

"Virgil...?" Scott's own voice hitched uncertainly. Kyrano has described what Virgil had seen and the clearing, the hut, Virgil's position and his own mirrored exactly that. Scott looked at where Virgil held out the pistol, pointing in Scott's direction. It shook, a sure sign of Virgil's attempt to resist whatever it was Belah Gaat was doing to him. Scott raised his hands slowly, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on Virgil's, although he wasn't entirely sure his brother was even aware of where he was as that moment.

"Virg, put down the gun," Scott said. "We're gonna go home now…"

XXXXXXXXXX

Kyrano placed a gentle hand on Jeff's shoulder as together they watched the footage from Scott's camera. Jeff took a sharp intake of breath as he saw Virgil pointing the gun towards his brother, a nightmare come true.

"Virgil...no..." Jeff breathed softly as he watched Virgil's empty gaze rest on Scott. His usually warm, honey brown eyes showing no spark of life. Belah had complete control now and he was about to carry out his threat.

"Virgil, you're stronger than this," Scott said firmly, although Jeff was well aware of the fear Scott felt at that time. A moment passed, where Scott saw recognition and desperation flicker across Virgil's eyes, the internal turmoil of fighting against the insistent voice, unrelenting pressure from Belah.

"Scott..." Virgil managed to squeeze out before Jeff watched him snap back into Belah's mental grasp.

"Fight him Virgil!" Jeff yelled at the screen, unwilling to see both his sons destroyed through one man.

XXXXXXXXX

From beside him, Scott saw a figure enter the hut and he turned his head, meeting the smug, satisfied face of Belah Gaat. The only sign he had that he was working hard to keep Virgil under his control was a bead of sweat, trickling down past his temple.

Otherwise he was perfectly calm.

"Let him go," Scott ordered. Belah looked back at Virgil with a smile before shaking his head.

"I don't think I want to do that," Belah replied. "You see, Virgil is worth far more to me that killing you off. This is just the beginning."

"If you don't let him go, I'l..."

"You'll do what Scott Tracy?" Belah demanded, leaning into him. "Kill me? Then you kill your beloved brother too." Scott reached out and grabbed his tunic. The movement was unexpected and in that moment, Scott saw Virgil's gaze soften, a sure sign that Belah's grip on his mind had relented, if only a little.

"I can kill Virgil with a simple instruction."

"Don't you dare..." Scott warned, moving towards Virgil, but Belah yelled a command, in a language Scott didn't understand.

It seemed Virgil did, however and Scott skidded to a halt as Virgil put the gun to his own head.

"No!" Scott's yell broke the tense silence that had descended over the hut and its three occupants.

"Don't Virgil...please God, don't do this…" Belah stepped back, watching the stand off between brothers with a smile on his face.

"One brother dead. I'm not bothered which one now Scott, for I will get the others..."

"I'll kill you, you bastard…" Scott turned on Belah, fists clenches and eyes blazing. Belah held up his hand, nodding towards Virgil.

"Pull the trigger, Virgil."

"Virgil, don't you dare listen to him!" Scott yelled, looking helplessly back at his brother, his eyes fixed on the horrific tableau before him. His brother holding a gun to his head, powerless to stop himself from pulling the trigger. Scott swallowed down the bile gathering at the back of his throat.

"Virgil, please. Shoot him!"

In Virgil's head, an almighty battle began. Scott's voice could be heard, telling him to turn the gun on Belah. Belah's voice yelling at him to pull the trigger. He looked at Scott, silver tear tracks streaking his face as he silently begged him not to listen to Belah.

He felt a momentary pain in his chest, his breath catching in his throat, but as suddenly as the emotion had taken hold of him, it dissipated into the air around him.

Virgil was very much fighting, but Belah was winning at the moment.

Scott saw Virgil glance at Belah before his eyes closed, his finger tightening determinedly on the trigger and in that moment, Scott knew he had to be the one to end this.

He ran to Virgil, pulling his arm round and screaming out when he heard the gun fire.

The pistol clattered to the ground.


	32. The End?

_Ok, this is the end...or is it? Thanks to all who have continued to read and review through this story. It has been most appreciated and I hope you've enjoyed it._

The video footage cut out; the blurry image of Belah's sneer as Virgil prepared to pull the trigger, caused by Scott's sudden movement, fading to a white dot in the middle of the screen. A tense silence descended over the two occupants of Thunderbird Two's cockpit.

"What's happened?" Gordon asked, his voice barely audible above Alan's panicked gasps. Through their earpieces, John's calm voice reached them, wavering slightly, but still calm.

"Scott's cut the feed," John said. "I don't know what's happening, but whatever it is, he doesn't want us to see it." Alan turned to Gordon, his face pale and his bottom lip trembling.

"It's gotta be bad...you think Virgil's..."

"No!" Gordon yelled. "We don't know what it is. It could be anything."

"Let's not panic unnecessarily," John interrupted. "I've told base we've got a problem with the feed...just in case Dad calls in."

"You lied to Dad?" Alan asked, his eyes widening. "You think something's really wrong, don't you?"

"Alan, we don't know anything yet..."

"Maybe we should we go find them..." Gordon tentatively suggested, but was immediately interrupted.

"No," John's voice was stern, silencing Gordon's thought. "Stay there. Don't move. I've got Scott and Virgil's location signals on screen. Let's leave them to it." The youngest Tracys sat back, sharing a momentary glance until the screen flickered to life, John sharing the information about Scott and Virgil's locations.

"Virgil's hasn't moved..." Alan murmured.

"Shut up Alan," Gordon ground out, leaning forward and focusing all his attention on the blips on the screen in front of them.

"What's happened to them?"

XXXXXXXXXX

As the gun shot rang out, Guntur and Manap pushed themselves into a sprint, their feet thudding against the ground as they tore through the greenery surrounding the camp.

"Belah has the power to destroy them..." Manap yelled to his brother, speaking of his own experiences. "Turn friends against one another, brother against brother..."

At the sound of a pained yell from the clearing up again, Guntur turned to his brother.

"We must hurry."

XXXXXXXXXX

There seemed to be voices surrounding him when he came to, blinking slowly as he saw a blurry figure hovering over him. The person looked to be speaking to him, but all Virgil was able to hear was Belah's voice, lingering in his head. He reached up to rub his head, ease away the throbbing pressure.

"Virgil, can you hear me?" Scott's voice suddenly broke through the background noise. "Virgil, c'mon, talk to me..." Virgil wearily opened his eyes, Scott's face slowly drifting into focus. His stern face softened into a smile and he placed a reassuring hand on his chest.

"You're ok. Just stay there a minute..."

"Scott..." he reached out, taking hold of Scott's arm as he got to his feet.

"Just stay there Virg, I'm going to finish this..."

"Scott..." he tried to warn him. He tried to tell him what Guntur had told him. But his voice seemed to dissipate into the air around him and Belah's taunting voice returned.

"Kill me and you will become me..."

Virgil closed his eyes, summoning as much strength as he could to push himself to his knees, shaky arms barely able to support him. As he used the middle pole of the hut to haul himself to his feet, he caught a glimpse of Scott standing in the clearing, surveying the jungle surrounding them, seeking out Belah. Virgil tried to call out to him again, but it was as though he could do nothing more than whisper. Belah's grip on him was still lingering and he was doing everything in his power to maintain it.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Scott's moving!" Gordon yelled. "He's moving fast!"

"Virgil's not moved yet...no wait! He's moving! Slowly, though..." Alan's voice raised in pitch. Beside him, Gordon reached over, grabbing hold of his hand. Alan glanced at them, shocked, worried at the sudden emotion Gordon was expressing. He swallowed nervously before giving Gordon's hand a tight, reassuring squeeze.

Whatever happened, they would deal with it together.

XXXXXXXXXX

Virgil made it to the doorway of the hut, leaning against the doorframe as the world spun before his eyes, the greens of the trees around him forming a kaleidoscope of colours. He saw Scott disappearing into the trees and tried to call out, only to find his voice lacking.

He felt strong hands grab his shoulders as he felt himself slipping forward.

"Virgil! Listen to me! Look at me!" Guntur's voice seemed to cut through all of Belah's murmurs and as he met Guntur's eyes, he felt some clarity returning and some strength returning to him. Gutnur placed a hand at the side of his head, whispering under his breath, words which would clear Belah's demon, if only for a short period.

"Where is Scott going?" Guntur asked him as he stood up, giving Guntur a thankful smile for whatever voodoo magic he'd used to rid him of Belah's lingering control.

"He went after Belah," Virgil replied. "We've got to stop him before he catches him..."

"If he kills him..."

"I know!" Virgil snapped, pushing himself into a sprint across the clearing, Guntur following him.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Virgil's running now too..." Gordon continued the slightly unnecessary commentary on their brothers movements. However, it filled what would otherwise be a tense, edgy silence, where dark thoughts would be allowed to creep in.

"What are they running away from?" Alan asked.

"They can't be running from anything, 'cause Scott wouldn't have left Virgil there," Gordon reasoned.

"Well, what are they chasing then?"

XXXXXXXXXX

Virgil pushed through the thick vegetation, desperately trying to catch up with Scott. It was made much harder by the continual thudding in his head, Belah's words to him echoing over and over and making him feel sick. Guntur yelled to him from behind, motivating him to push Belah from his mind, concentrate on finding Scott and stopping him making Belah's demon a permanent resident in his head.

He slowed to a stop as he saw Scott ahead of him, standing over a crumpled figure, huddled against the mossy surface of a thick tree trunk.

It was Belah Gaat.

And it was suddenly apparent where the bullet meant firstly for Scott, then himself had ended up.

His tunic was stained with scarlet blood from a wound in his chest, which was heaving uncertainly. Virgil took his own shuddered breath, his hand unconsciously moving to his own chest. Belah's eyes met Scott's easily, a shaky laugh escaping from his lips. Scott closed his fingers around the cold steel of the pistol, clutching both hands around the handle and settling his finger on the trigger.

"You don't have courage to fire..." Belah spat at him. Scott let the corner of his mouth turn up in a sad smile.

"I thought you knew me better." Virgil pushed his hand into his hair, stepping forward uncertainly.

"You can't finish it," Belah said, his eyes finding Virgil's and holding his gaze. "I don't give up quite so easily." A glimmer of menace flickered across Belah's face. Despite his weakening state, Virgil felt the chill of Belah's stare, the telling grip he still had as he felt his eyesight begin to face at the edges, the pressure at his temples increasing suddenly.

Even if Scott did pull the trigger, Belah knew exactly how he could continue to cause havoc and horror in the lives of the Tracy family.

"Scott...no...no...!" Virgil managed, trying to scramble towards his brother. Scott ignored Virgil's protests, his eyes fixed firmly on the enemy before him, the man who had caused so much pain and suffering to so many. He could end it and he was going to.

"This is for what you did to my family..." Scott said, lifting the gun and aiming right between Belah's eyes. Belah had the gall to smile at Virgil as he did so, as his eyes began to glow in the fading light. It took all of his willpower to look away from the haunting gaze and Virgil knew he had to make his move there and then. He reached out, placing a shaky hand on Scott's back.

"Don't Scott..." he weakly pleaded. He saw Scott flinch at his touch, but the desperation in his brother's voice made him hesitate and turn to face him. He held the pistol steady, keeping it fixed on Belah Gaat.

"You can't kill him. Let him go," Virgil said softly. Scott frowned, shrugging Virgil's hand away.

"Why they hell would I do that? You know what he did to us...to you Virgil..." Virgil pushed by Scott, grabbing Belah's arm and pulling him to his feet. Belah let out a gasped moan of pain, but Virgil ignored it.

"Get away from here," Virgil said, his voice hard. Belah smiled as Virgil met his eyes, matching his stare without flinching, until Belah reached out, placing his bloody hand against Virgil's cheek before pushing him back.

"I told you that you would not finish it," Belah hissed. Virgil reached out, grabbing a fistful of his tunic.

"We're not finished yet," Virgil warned him. Belah managed a pain-riddled smirk before he backed away. Scott moved forward, reluctant to let Belah just walk away, but Guntur grabbed his arm.

"If you kill him, you will lose Virgil. Belah still has control. As he weakens, he will let go...but you must let him do that."

"What happens if he doesn't?" Scott demanded, his eyes drifting back to watch Belah limping into the forest, back into hiding.

"He's losing blood rapidly. At some point he's going to have to focus all of his energies on staying alive." Virgil turned around, the scarlet of Belah's blood bright against his pale features. The look of fear on his face was enough for Scott to follow them back towards the camp, casting one last glance over his shoulder.

"I had the chance to end it and I let him get away," Scott said.

"If you had pulled the trigger, you would have done something far worse," Guntur advised him.

XXXXXXXXXX

Virgil stayed with Guntur and Manap as Scott returned to the village to help Gordon and Alan pack away the rescue equipment, which had been forgotten about since Virgil's disappearance. Guntur told Scott that he wanted to ensure Belah's presence was forever banished from his brother. Reluctantly Scott had left, Virgil understanding he didn't like to be left in the dark.

"Give me one hour," Guntur told Scott as he handed Virgil a cup of the potent liquid he'd previously had. Scott turned, walking away slowly, pausing as he heard Virgil's stomach contents spattering against the ground. He wanted to go back, but the concerned murmurs between his brother and Guntur during their walk back to the village suggested there was something more to Virgil's most recent experience in the jungle than Scott was privy too.

A small part of him didn't want to know what was going on and would be glad when Guntur returned Virgil to him, cured and ready to return home. He shuddered, his stomach turning for a moment as he remembered the moment Virgil had stood before him, eyes empty, ready to shoot him.

What was worse was the moment his closest brother had turned the gun on himself.

Followed by the lingering image of Virgil's terrified features, highlighted against the bloody smear across his face as he'd pushed Belah into the forest, encouraging him to walk away.

An insistent beeping from his wrist communicator disturbed him and he answered. Gordon and Alan squeezed both their faces into shot and he couldn't help but half smile.

"Scott, are you okay? Is Virgil okay? We lost contact with you..." Alan asked.

"We're both fine," Scott replied shortly. "I'm on my way back to you now. Virgil will be back shortly."

"What about The Hood?" Alan asked. Scott paused, his eyes darkening for a moment before he responded.

"Don't worry about him."

XXXXXXXXXX

Gordon looked at Alan, barely holding back the inevitable 'I told you so'. Alan muttered it for him with a scowl.

"Virg is fine, Scott is fine and we'll be out of here soon," Gordon said.

"Still doesn't explain why Scott cut the audio and video feed. Something happened and I don't think it was good."

XXXXXXXXXX

After four doses of the pungent liquid and four subsequent episodes of vomiting from Virgil, Guntur handed him a cup of water. The ritual to expel the demons was thankfully over.

"It didn't work last time," Virgil said as he took a welcomed drink of the water, clearing the acidic sting from his mouth.

"Perhaps we did not give it long enough," Guntur suggested, "but I feel he had a stronger hold on you. When Manap was under his control, he was also trying to control many other men at the camp. That was why Manap was able to break free and tell the others here about you and Scott. When his energy is focused on only one person, it is much harder to remove." Virgil watched Guntur preparing two homemade cigarettes, rolling the tobacco in the dried banana leaf expertly.

"Another part of the ritual?" he asked.

"No, I thought it might be needed after what happened," Guntur half smiled.

"I don't even remember it clearly...it was like a dream, you know? I don't feel like it really happened. But Scott knows it did. He watched me nearly kill him..."

"But he also knows it was not you," Guntur added reassuringly. "You need to talk about this with your brother. You must not let guilt cloud your mind. Don't ever think he has the better of you...it's a weakness he can exploit."

"How will I know he's gone for good?" Virgil asked him. Guntur sighed, handing Virgil the homemade cigarette and sharing the match.

"I do not know," Guntur replied honestly. Virgil took a draw of the cigarette, closing his eyes as he exhaled slowly.

"I just need to wait?"

"I am afraid so."

XXXXXXXXXX

The scream of agony echoed around the stone walls of the temple as Belah removed the bullet from his side with shaking fingers. The scarlet puddle of blood shimmered in front of his eyes as he fought to stay awake in the blinding pain. The bullet, slimy with his own warm blood, slipped from between his fingers, tinkling against the ground softly.

He closed his eyes, breathing heavily through his nose as he prepared to stitch his own wound. He fumbled for the gold cup beside him, drinking a mouthful of the strong wine to help numb the pain as the needle pierced his skin, accompanied by a stifled wail.

The pain would fuel his demons, make him stronger and prepare him for his revenge.

XXXXX

Alan took charge of Thunderbird 1 and as Gordon few Thunderbird 2, the eldest of the brothers found a private place to rest in the infirmary, Virgil gazing at the familiar surroundings of his ship and Scott gazing at Virgil. He'd been too quiet after they'd got back to the village, but Scott had put it down to shock. Now, he was worried Virgil was taking all the grief and blame himself and Scott wasn't ready to let his younger brother descend into a sullen silence.

"How are you feeling?" Scott asked. Virgil turned to him, blinking as though shocked by Scott's speaking to him. He nodded quickly, but at Scott's inquisitive look, confessed all.

"Head's a bit sore...I feel a bit sick..." Virgil said quietly.

"Did he give you something?" Scott asked.

"No."

"What about that drink Guntur gave you?"

"That's what is making me sick." They trailed off into silence, Virgil studying the mud drying out on his shoes carefully. Scott licked his dry crack lips, shifting uncomfortably. For once, he was unsure of exactly what was going through his brother's head.

"Are the others ok?" Virgil asked after a moment. "He spoke of..." Trailing off, Virgil let his eyes drop to the floor, unable to watch Scott's face as he told him.

"He said he could make Kyrano do things...just like he would make me..." Frustratingly he stopped and Scott had to stop himself from demanding to know what exactly had been said. Kyrano and his father knew of Virgil's nightmare vision or whatever it was you wanted to call it, but Scott had been spared the gory details. _Not just a turn of phrase in this case_ his father had told him solemnly. He was equally as terrified by it as Virgil had been.

"You know I would never have hurt you Scott?" Virgil said suddenly, his eyes glittering in the dim light of the plane.

"Virg, of course I do...I don't want you thinking...God..." Ignoring Virgil's initial resistance, Scott pulled him into his embrace, not knowing how else he might be able to show Virgil that no matter what had just happened, it was not of his own doing.

"It's done now..." Scott sighed, running gentle fingers through Virgil's mussed hair. Virgil sat back after a moment, wiping his eyes. Scott reached into his first aid kit, pulling out two painkillers. Virgil eyed the pills wearily.

"You haven't anything stronger, have you?" Scott glanced up at Virgil and cocked a smile.

"What was I thinking huh?" He replaced the brown bottles and lifted a bottle of Scotch, kept ironically in the emergency supplies cupboard. Virgil shakily unscrewed the lid and took a large gulp of the amber liquid, closing his eyes as he felt the burning sensation trailing down his throat into his stomach.

Scott reached over, copying his brothers motions and taking his own drink, steadying himself after the events which would haunt his darkest nightmares for months to follow.

"Can I ask why you let him go?" Scott said, returning to bottle to Virgil's expectant fingers. He gripped the bottle tightly, taking another drink.

"I don't really understand it...Guntur said if we killed him, this demon would then find someone else to haunt...and because Belah had managed to get himself into my head, he would settle there. Permanently." Scott let the information digest for a moment, a tense silence filling the space between the brothers.

"You'd be Belah Gaat?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

Scott swallowed thickly, snatching at the bottle and taking another drink, his blue eyes flickering as Virgil looked away. He placed the bottle on the floor, leaning forward and rubbing his face with his hands.

"I could have killed you..." he uttered.

"No Scott. I'd have been alive, but...I wouldn't have been me."

"I came so close...God, I'm an idiot...Virgil, I'm sorry..." Virgil grabbed his wrist tightly, shaking his head.

"This wasn't our fault. It was him. Never blame yourself." He squeezed his wrist pointedly before sitting back, closing his eyes. Scott noted his paler complexion and wasn't too surprised when Virgil got to his feet, heading towards the bathroom across the corridor.

Stepping inside, Virgil closed the door over, supporting his weight against it for a moment. His breathing was stuttered as he held back sobs, pressing his knuckles to his mouth to stifle the sounds. He ran the tap before cupping some cool water in his hands and splashing it against his face, removing the lingering dirt and blood. He fumbled for the hand towel beside the sink, patting his face dry as he lifted his head to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

All was normal. Apart from one feature.

His eyes.

Glowing with the ominous yellow of Gaat's presence.


End file.
